Silly, Silly Book Series: Prisoner of Azkaban
by iheartmwpp
Summary: Because no matter how much we may love it, nothing is without flaws. Contains the Ministry of Magic at possibly their most incompetent, annoyance at the reader's apparent inability to learn anyone's last name, and FOR THE LOVE OF MERLIN WHY AREN'T LUPIN AND BLACK PETRIFYING OR STUNNING PETTIGREW, THEY'RE SUPPOSED TO BE SMARTER THAN THIS.
1. Fudge Clearly Knows What He's Doing

_A/N: …Okay, so Pottermore totally updated before I posted this…but it still didn't finish PoA so I'm still counting it._

_So I'm gonna plug the crap out of the new Mugglenet podcast that goes through all the books chapter by chapter, Alohomora!, especially since that's part of the reason why it took me so long to post this in the first place; I really wanted to hear their take on pretty much every chapter for this one. This will probably not be the case for future installments of this parody series since you will all probably hunt me down and kill me if I leave you waiting for thirty plus weeks at a time, amirite. Iunno, it was PoA, I wanted to hear all of the things because PoA. In any case, they've got pretty good insight and read into things even more than _I_ do, so they're worth checking out and are occasionally really hysterical and stuff. Yeah._

**Disclaimer:** This is my favorite book in the _Harry Potter _series that I did not write. My old paperback copy is falling apart like whoa and I can't bring myself to get rid of it, that's how much I love it. Which is why I now have to tear it apart with the help of tiny _Final Fantasy,_ _Airplane!_ and _Red Dwarf_ references.

* * *

Harry Potter was a highly unusual boy in many ways. For one thing, he hated the summer holidays more than any other time of year. For another, he really wanted to do his homework but was forced to do it in secret, in the dead of night. And he also happened to be a wiza—OH NO NOT THIS RECAP BULLSHIT AGAIN.

* * *

_Non-magical people (more commonly known by the racial slur "Muggles") were particularly afraid of magic in medieval times, but not very good at recognizing it. In those days, every time there was lightning it must've been a devil-worshipper casting Thundaga, so nearly everyone was sentenced to be burnt at the stake. On the rare occasion that they did catch a real witch or wizard, burning had no effect whatsoever. The witch or wizard would perform a basic, apparently wandless, Flame Freezing Charm and then pretend to shriek with pain while enjoying a gentle, tickling sensation. And then they'd receive a crossbow bolt to the head when they didn't die._

* * *

**MINISTRY OF MAGIC EMPLOYEE SCOOPS GRAND PRIZE**

Arthur Weasley, Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office at the Ministry of Magic, has won the annual _Daily Prophet_ Grand Prize Galleon draw.

A delighted Mr. Weasley told the _Daily Prophet_, "We will be spending the gold on a summer holiday in Egypt, where our eldest son, Bill, works as a curse breaker for Gringotts Wizarding Bank. It will apparently take almost every last galleon to take the whole family there even though Bill presumably has a place and we could probably just pitch a tent in his room, the food shouldn't be a problem since we can always feed ourselves no matter what anyway, and unless we're creating havoc in Muggle airports how expensive is it to create a portkey that goes across international borders? The rest'll be spent on souvenirs, I guess, it's not like our kids need new robes or books or anything…"

The Weasley family will be spending a month in Egypt. Notice how we're writing this in the future tense even though the accompanying photograph shows them to already _be_ in fucking Egypt. We're so professional, you guys, you don't even know.

…

…Can Remus not afford the paper or what, why did _he_ not notice this picture.

* * *

_Harry — this is a Pocket Sneakoscope. If there's someone untrustworthy around, it's supposed to light up and spin. Bill says it's rubbish sold for wizard tourists and is completely pointless aside from making people realize things were fishy in hindsight. Apparently you'll lose this one or something because Hermione gets you a new one four years from now, which only activates once when we're already fully aware that we're in deep shit. So yeah, totally and completely useless._

Harry immediately took off his socks and shoved the Pocket Sneakoscope into them to stop it from whistling. He figured it was either being set off because he was still awake, or because the Dursleys were such untrustworthy people that it was going off even while they were asleep. He listened, scared that the whistling had woken someone, but thankfully the Dursleys seemed to have slept through it.

* * *

Harry put the leather case aside and picked up his last parcel. He recognized the untidy scrawl on the brown paper at once; this was from Hagrid, the Hogwarts gamekeeper. This was the only time Harry opened the present before reading the card for some reason.

* * *

"Hang on!" barked Uncle Vernon, staring furiously at the reporter. "You didn't tell us where that maniac's escaped from! What use is that? Lunatic could be coming up the street right now!"

…Dude actually has a point. Where I come from, whenever there's a serious crime, immediately everyone involved in delivering the news is not only obsessed with tracking the progress of the law enforcement, but in order to have something to talk about during the wait and to drag out the story and keep it fresh so their ratings can stay up, they'll go as in-depth as they can about the suspect's personal backgrounds and their families and possible accomplices. Or is that just an American fear-mongering whatever thing. The Muggles know absolutely nothing about Sirius, and he won't ever be caught. You'd think someone would've called in and demanded more information; you'd think at least one of the reporters would've taken it upon themselves to investigate further in order to have a story. Or maybe someone actually does try eventually but Harry was in Diagon Alley or even Hogwarts by that point so we never see it.

* * *

On the threshold stood Aunt Marge. She was very like Uncle Vernon: large, beefy, and purple-faced, she even had a moustache, though not as bushy as his. And since she didn't look feminine in the traditional sense, this automatically made her a horrible person.

* * *

"_Lumos,"_ Harry muttered, and a light appeared at the end of his wand, almost dazzling him. He held it high over his head, and the pebble-dashed walls of number two suddenly sparkled; the garage door gleamed, and between them Harry saw, quite distinctly, the hulking outline of something very big, with wide, gleaming eyes.

The fuck did he know where Harry was, how long was he out there, and if he sees Harry perform magic outside of school at night with his trunk beside him, how did he not know something was amiss and try to do his godfatherly duty, even if it's just going up to Harry to see if he's okay after the Knight Bus nearly ran him over. He's just a dog at this point, no one would suspect a thing.

* * *

There were no seats; instead, half a dozen bedsteads stood beside the curtained windows, presumably with mattresses and blankets on them. It was the stupidest thing Harry had come across in his entire experience with the wizarding world so far. There were absolutely no seatbelts as far as he could see, meaning that it couldn't be safe in the slightest. He didn't understand why they couldn't have just normal seats installed that people could just as easily fall asleep on, safely.

Of course, the Knight Bus, through the power of magic, could be the smoothest-running mode of transportation Harry had ever ridden in his life. He would have to wait and see…

* * *

"How come the Muggles don't hear the bus?" said Harry.

"Them!" said Stan contemptuously. Huh, he seems to rather despise Muggles. Maybe his being a Death Eater isn't an entirely unreasonable assumption.

* * *

"Well, Harry," said Fudge, pouring tea, "You've had us all in a right flap, I don't mind telling you. Running away from your aunt and uncle like that! I'd started to think you disliked each other or something! But you're safe, that's what matters, and no I will never ask _why_ you felt the need to run away, that's not important."

Fudge buttered himself a crumpet and pushed the plate toward Harry.

"Eat, Harry, you look dead on your feet. Now then…You will be pleased to hear that we have dealt with the unfortunate blowing-up of Miss Marjorie Dursley. We should really call it the expansion, though, since saying it like that makes it sound like she actually exploded, which would mean you kind of killed someone, hmm…Anyway. Two members of the Accidental Magic Reversal Department were dispatched to Privet Drive a few hours ago. Miss Dursley has been punctured and her memory has been modified. I love how we can use that spell indiscriminately with no consequences and no chance of it being abused horribly by anyone ever. Anyway, she has no recollection of the incident at all. So that's that, and no harm done, other than the fact that everyone under me is now extremely wary of your powers, several people are convinced that you'll become the next Dark Lord considering you obviously hate Muggles so much, and even more people are now very concerned about your morals. Don't worry, though, I won't ask about what set you off or anything, that would be _responsible."_ He shuddered slightly.

* * *

"Oh, my dear boy, we're not going to punish you for a little thing like that!" cried Fudge, waving his crumpet impatiently. "It was an accident! We don't send people to Azkaban for blowing up their aunts!"

"But you _do_ expel them for doing magic outside of school," Harry countered. "And using it against a Muggle would be cause for further punishment, not to mention using it against a family member might even land one in St. Mungo's or something."

Unless Harry's eyes were deceiving him, Fudge was suddenly looking awkward.

"Circumstances change, Harry—"

"Oh, so the laws themselves have changed, then?"

"W-Well no…We have to take into account…in the present climate…Surely you don't _want_ to be expelled?"

"…Three things. One: of course I don't, but I doubt hardly any student really does and yet it happens all the time, so you asking that is pointless. Two: don't call me Shirley. Three: what do you mean, the present climate?"

"…I'm gonna go see if Tom's got a room for you."

Fudge strode out of the parlor while Harry's eye twitched.

* * *

"Room eleven's free, Harry," said Fudge. "I think you'll be very comfortable. Just one thing, and I'm sure you'll understand…I don't want you wandering off into Muggle London, all right? Keep to Diagon Alley; the person who went to Azkaban primarily for blowing up and killing a large group of people would never _dream_ about attacking anyone in a crowd."

"Er…"

* * *

"Have you had any luck with Black yet?" Harry asked.

Fudge's fingers slipped on the silver fastenings of his cloak.

"What's that? Oh, you've heard — well, no, not yet, but it's only a matter of time. The Askaban guards have never yet failed…and they are angrier than I've ever seen them. Mostly because we're gonna keep calling them Azkaban's guards instead of their species' name until _you_ find out what they're called, and then and only then will we constantly call them dementors and never refer to them as simple guards ever again."

"Huh. Cool."

"Indeed. So, I'll say good-bye."

"…Just say it then. Who says 'I'm going to say this' right before they say it, that's dumb and repetitive and annoying."

"…Lupin says that in the film, too, you know."

"I know, I hated it there too, I don't care who says it."

"HOW DO WE KNOW WHAT HAPPENS IN THE MOVIES."

"I DON'T KNOW."

* * *

Harry ate breakfast each morning in the Leaky Cauldron, where he was surprised to find that he wasn't glomped hourly by all the other guests considering who he was. Not that he wasn't grateful for the small amount of privacy, but it just didn't tie in with his previous experiences in Diagon Alley. Maybe people just got bored after two years…

* * *

I swear I heard something about JKR having a bunch of deleted scenes from _Deathly Hallows_ involving Florean Fortescue being awesome. _Man_ are these parodies gonna be dated if and when Pottermore ever updates with decent information about things.

* * *

_**THE FIREBOLT**_

This state-of-the-art racing broom sports a streamlined, superfine handle of ash even though Pottermore lists the handle as ebony so that's a _severe_ oopsie right there, though since it's the prototype we might've upgraded it to ebony after or something, treated with a diamond-hard polish and hand-numbered with its own registration number. Each individually selected birch (although it could _totally _be hazel apparently if you want it) twig in the broomtail has been honed to aerodynamic perfection, giving the Firebolt unsurpassable balance and pinpoint precision. The Firebolt has an acceleration of 150 miles an hour in ten seconds and incorporates an unbreakable Breaking Charm. Price on request, because if we advertized it here we would never be able to sell a single one.

* * *

"Look at this," said Ron, pulling a long thin box out of a bag and opening it. "Brand-new wand. Fourteen inches, willow, containing one unicorn tail-hair. Why am I not better at nonverbal magic three years from now, that's not cool."

* * *

"Hermione, that thing nearly scalped me!" said Ron.

"He didn't mean to, did you, Crookshanks?" said Hermione.

"And what about Scabbers?" said Ron, pointing at the lump in his chest pocket. "He's a friggin' rat! You knew one of your best friends owns a rat, you just saw me get a tonic for him to try and make him _better_, and the first thing you see that cat do is try to kill him _and_ hurt me! So you instantly think, 'Well I better get that thing that eats rats that just attacked my friend and his pet that I know he cares about!'"

"That reminds me, you forgot said rat tonic," said Hermione, slapping the small red bottle into Ron's hand. "And stop _worrying, _Crookshanks will be sleeping in my dormitory and Scabbers in yours, what's the problem?

"When he _leaves_ the dormitory, even indoor cats need more space than a tiny dorm room, what if he gets into mine?!"

* * *

"Hello, Harry, dear. I suppose you've heard about our exciting news?" Mrs. Weasley pointed to the brand-new silver badge on Percy's chest. "Second Head Boy in the family!" she said, swelling with pride.

"And last," Fred muttered under his breath.

"I don't doubt that," said Mrs. Weasley, frowning suddenly.

"Thanks, Mum," Ron muttered under his breath; Harry and Hermione looked at each other concernedly.

* * *

"But Harry will be perfectly safe at Hogwarts," Mrs. Weasley insisted. "It's not like it's a walking death trap filled with dangerous monsters that nearly killed a good chunk of the school last year alone or anything!"

"We thought Azkaban was perfectly safe," countered Mr. Weasley. "If Black can break out of Azkaban, and if a teacher can sneak You-Know-Who into the castle without anyone being any the wiser, then Black can break into Hogwarts."

"But no one's really sure that Black's after Harry—"

There was a thud on wood, and Harry was sure Mr. Weasley had banged his fist on the table.

"Molly, how many times do I have to tell you? They didn't report it in the press because Fudge wanted it kept quiet, but Fudge went out to Azkaban the night Black escaped. The guards, which could either be the dementors or any human unfortunate enough to be working there to make sure said dementors don't suck out all the souls trapped there, told Fudge that Black's been talking in his sleep for a while now. Always the same words: 'He's at Hogwarts…he's at Hogwarts.' That narrows it down to generically anyone with a set of testicles who might be at Hogwarts at the moment, so _obviously_ it has to be Harry; there's absolutely no way he found out that Professor Snape is teaching there and wanted to finish what he started or wanted to yell at Dumbledore for never ensuring he had a trial or anything like that! There was also something about him staring at this one article in the _Daily Prophet,_ but that will never be important. Black is deranged, Molly, and he wants Harry dead. It's one person's theory so obviously it's the truth since no one can think of anything better. If you ask me, he thinks murdering Harry will bring You-Know-Who back to power. Black lost everything the night Harry stopped You-Know-Who, and he's had twelve years alone in Azkaban to brood on that…Hey, wow, that's like the only thing I've said that's actually right."

There was a silence. Harry leaned still closer to the door, desperate to hear more.

"Well, Arthur, you must do what you think is right. But you're forgetting Albus Dumbledore. I don't think anything could hurt Harry at Hogwarts while Dumbledore's headmaster. I know that our children were nearly slaughtered by a massive snake last year and our little girl was possessed by You-Know-Who and everything, not to mention everything that can happen during a Quidditch game or all the dangerous stuff Harry, Ron, and Hermione get into on practically a weekly basis, _and_ the fact that Dumbledore can apparently be removed at any time with relative ease, but I'm sure if we keep saying it enough, someday a Hogwarts that's actually a safe place to send our kids will become a reality."

* * *

So Sirius Black was after him. This explained everything. Fudge had been lenient with him because he was so relieved to find him alive. He'd made Harry promise to stay in Diagon Alley where there were plenty of wizards, and perhaps the occasional Auror, to keep an eye on him. And he was sending two Ministry cars to take them all to the station tomorrow, so that the Weasleys could look after Harry until he was on the train. After all, there was no way that Black would just blow up the entire family just to get to Harry, and the Ministry was definitely confident that a low-ranking employee, a house wife, and a newly of-age Head Boy was all it would take to bring Black down.

Harry lay listening to the muffled shouting next door and wondered why he didn't feel more scared. Sirius Black had murdered thirteen people with one curse; Mr. and Mrs. Weasley obviously thought Harry would be panic-stricken if he knew the truth. But Harry happened to agree wholeheartedly with Mrs. Weasley that the safest place on Earth was wherever Albus Dumbledore happened to be, even if he had _two years full of evidence to the contrary_, including the fact that _Dumbledore had been the one to bring the Philosopher's Stone to Hogwarts _and therefore _**it was HIS fault that Voldemort came to the school full of baby kids in the first place.**_

* * *

They headed down to breakfast, where Mr. Weasley was reading the front page of the _Daily Prophet_ with a furrowed brow and Mrs. Weasley was telling Hermione and Ginny about a date rape drug she'd made as a young girl. All three of them were rather giggly.

* * *

"It's all right, Crookshanks," Hermione cooed through the wickerwork. "I'll let you out on the train."

"You are so self-centered," snapped Ron. "Have some consideration for the people around you."

He pointed at his chest, where a large lump indicated that Scabbers was curled up in his pocket. Or that he was starting to grow breasts, either way.

* * *

Once the remaining Weasleys and Hermione had joined them, Harry and Ron led the way to the end of the train, past packed compartments, to a carriage that looked quite empty. Are carriages different from compartments, because otherwise they totally found a place to ride on the train already and didn't need to go find another one whose sole occupant was a sleepy teacher, come the smeg on.

* * *

"I – er – I heard you and Mrs. Weasley talking last night. I couldn't help hearing," Harry added quickly. "Sorry—"

"That's not the way I'd have chosen for you to find out," said Mr. Weasley, looking anxious.

"_**THEN WHY IS IT THE ONLY WAY I EVER FIND ANYTHING OUT,"**_ Harry exploded.

"…"

* * *

Did _none_ of the pictures in Harry's photo album of his parents include any of their friends apart from the wedding shot? Did Sirius have the only photo of all four of that group in existence spelled to his bedroom wall, what the balls, people.

* * *

"But Hogsmeade's a very interesting place, isn't it?" Hermione pressed on eagerly. "In _Sites of Historical Sorcery_ it says the inn was the headquarters for the 1612 goblin rebellion, and the Shrieking Shack's supposed to be the most severely haunted building in Britain, which I don't know how credible that's supposed to be since it can only be like twenty-two years old at best and it's been silent for like fifteen years so it's a bit of a misnomer, though it _is_ interesting that the screams mostly occurred when the moon was full…And ghosts are all over the place at Hogwarts, the Bloody Baron's the worst of the lot unless you count Peeves or Binns so how bad could it _possibly_ be—"

"—and massive sherbet balls that make you levitate a few inches off the ground while you're sucking them," said Ron, who was plainly not listening to a word Hermione was saying. In other news, this whole section's really good for that one game where you replace random nouns with the word vagina. XD

* * *

"What was that thing?" Harry asked Lupin.

"A dementor," said Lupin, who was now giving chocolate to everyone else. "One of the dementors of Azkaban."

Everyone stared at him.

"Thanks, that really cleared that up," said Ginny.

* * *

Professor Lupin had come back. He paused as he entered, looked around, and said, with a small smile, "I haven't poisoned that chocolate, you know."

"No offense, Professor," Ron began, "but if you knew anything about our track record you'd know why we'd be a bit hesitant about accepting any sign of good will from a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."

* * *

"It was a dementor, Poppy," said Professor McGonagall.

They exchanged a dark look, and Madam Pomfrey clucked disapprovingly.

"Setting dementors around a school," she muttered, pushing back Harry's hair and feeling his forehead. "Frankly, it's much worse to send them on the train with only two competent adults to protect all the small children and somehow I doubt the trolley lady can cast a Patronus."

"Imagine if Professor Lupin hadn't been on the train," said McGonagall suddenly, looking pale. "There's a very strong chance you'd be treating a soulless husk right now."

"…Dear God," said Pomfrey, shuddering.

"…What are you talking about?" asked Harry, trying to sound more curious than terrified and failing. "The Ministry of Magic didn't send actual soul-sucking demons onto a train full of schoolchildren, did they?"

"And I don't think they even notified the parents," said McGonagall. "'You need a permission slip to go to the harmless village filled with candy and butterbeer but we'll just go ahead and send in evil monsters of darkness on your children without your consent.' They are _so_ gonna get sued."

"…But if Black _had _been on the train, and people were notified about the dementors," Hermione spoke up hesitantly, "what if Black found out about it and then not have taken the train? The Ministry would've missed their chance at getting him!"

"So what?" said Pomfrey. "Capturing Black is more important than the souls of several hundred children?" She scoffed. "And here I was thinking that Fudge would take the stance of every other politician and insist that you kids were the future of the wizarding world or some bullshit like that. But clearly I was wrong and you can all just die or lose your soul for all he cares, he only _maybe _cares a little about Potter if you're lucky."

* * *

Dumbledore cleared his throat and continued, "As you will all be aware after their search of the Hogwarts Express…_will all be aware_, what the hell, you _are_ aware right now…our school is presently playing host to some of the dementors of Azkaban, who are here on Ministry of Magic business. They're supposed to be searching for Sirius Black, but they pose just as much of a threat to us as they do to him. Perhaps even more so, actually, considering that Black was able to escape from them and they appear to have less of an effect on him for some reason. I tried to tell Fudge that trying to hunt him down with creatures that have little to no effect on the man is kind of stupid and the school would be better protected and safer if he sent Aurors in or something, but dear sweet Merlin the man's an idiot."

"I've heard of school being like a prison, but this is ridiculous!" cried a voice from the Ravenclaw table. He was promptly and violently murdered.

"The dementors are stationed at every entrance to the grounds," Dumbledore continued as if nothing had happened (and, considering the deceased was from a House other than Gryffindor, nothing had), "and while they are with us, I must make it plain that nobody is to leave the school without permission. Dementors are not to be fooled by tricks or disguises — or even Invisibility Cloaks," he added blandly, and Harry and Ron glanced at each other. "It is not in the nature of a dementor to understand pleading or excuses. I therefore warn each and every one of you to give them no reason to harm you, which is basically victim blaming; you lose your soul, you must've been leading them on with your black robes that're part of the uniform and how _dare_ you attend a Quidditch match, you were just _inviting_ them to make you fall off your broom. I look to the prefects, and our new Head Boy and Girl, to make sure that no student runs afoul of the dementors, because they've been _so_ useful in the past, but at least it takes the responsibility off of us adults who are primarily responsible for your welfare," he said.

"Question!" Harry called out. "While the dementors are here, who or what is guarding Azkaban in the meantime?"

"Iunno."

* * *

_A/N: Updates will be every Saturday until I finish this bitch and then inevitably take another hiatus probably._

_**Review or a monstrous cat will attack your face and your best friend will immediately buy it.**  
_


	2. That's Not Where Kappas Are From, Dude

_A/N: __...I sorta feel I should warn any Snupin fans that I kind of make fun of that ship a little in this chapter. I've read a few myself, they weren't bad, but I still don't think it's all that likely, though I really don't mind if you do. Just thought I'd get that out of the way; a Fred/Hermione shipper recently bit my head off for apparently despising anything not blatantly Ron/Hermione when I was just talking about the crazies who will knife you in your sleep if you don't ship what they do. I don't care if you ship Hagrid/Dobby, just know that I personally won't read it and if you bring it up in conversation I will mention that there is little to no canonical evidence for such a pairing. There is no need to get offended; if I do take jabs at your ship it's all meant in good humor. I make fun of things. It's what I do and why most of you are here. To quote Craig Ferguson: "IT'S A FUCKING JOKE!"_

**Disclaimer:** I keep forgetting to actually _write_ things, this book's so good. Obviously, since I'm not the one who wrote it. BOOM! Also stealing things from _Monty Python's Flying Circus, The Lord of the Rings,_ and unsurprisingly _A Very Potter Sequel._

* * *

Who needs information on an insignificant character like Remus Lupin when you can gain brand-new, never-before-seen, deeply coveted knowledge about the much-beloved Sir Cadogan? Getting that info was _almost_ as exciting as finding out about Gobstones!

* * *

Everything in the Divination classroom was lit with a dim, crimson light; the curtains at the windows were all closed, and the many lamps were draped with dark red scarves. Which most Muggle children learn at age five to never do lest said scarves or fabric or whatever_ catch on fucking fire_. In college dorms you can't put an overabundance of posters on your wall lest it be seen as a fire hazard, how did Dumbledore approve this shit.

* * *

"If being good at Divination means I have to pretend to see death omens in a lump of tea leaves, I'm not sure I'll be studying it much longer! Which is why I'm going to wait until the year's nearly over to drop it! That lesson was absolute rubbish compared with my Arithmancy class even though that's basically Divination plus calculus!"

"Hermione," Harry said as Hermione snatched up her bag, "over the past two years, we've been introduced to things we would never have thought possible. I spent my entire childhood believing that there was no such thing as magic, and I'm sure you did too. Now, however, we live in a world with three-headed dogs, unicorns, dragons, brick walls that're actually portals, talking hats, flying broomsticks, and so many other fantastical things; we just witnessed one of our teachers turn into a Goddamn cat, for Merlin's sake! Why is the thought of seeing into the future such an impossible thing for you to accept? There should be absolutely no limit on what's possible anymore!"

"Except death, that's pretty final and constant," said Ron. "So about that Arithmancy class you haven't actually had yet…"

Hermione slung her bag over her shoulder and quickly stalked away.

"…Smooth."

* * *

"There's a light on in Hagrid's window," Harry said suddenly.

Ron looked at his watch.

"If we hurried, we could go down and see him. It's still quite early…"

"I don't know," Hermione said slowly, and Harry saw her glance nervously at him.

"I'm allowed to walk across the _grounds," _he said pointedly. "Sirius Black hasn't got past the dementors yet, has he?"

"…Yes. Yes he did. When he _fucking escaped."_

"…Well I haven't been physically forbidden from going out yet, so let's just continue to do whatever we want until I am."

"Are you sure? I mean—"

"Hey, if they wanted me to be safe, they should confirm that I know the evil guy's after me and tell me explicitly what they're doing to protect me and what I can do to protect myself. But they're not, so screw it."

* * *

The end of the lesson in sight, Snape strode over to Neville, who was cowering by his cauldron.

"Everyone gather 'round," said Snape, his black eyes glittering, "and watch what happens to Longbottom's toad which either he brought down with him for the hell of it or I forced him to go get it or something. If he has managed to produce a Shrinking Solution, it will shrink into a tadpole. So basically it's that de-aging crap that's prevalent in fanficiton; otherwise you'd think it would simply grow smaller in size as its name suggests."

The Gryffindors watched fearfully. The Slytherins looked excited. Snape picked up Trevor the toad in his left hand and dipped a small spoon, presumably with his right hand, into Neville's potion, which was now green. He trickled a few drops down Trevor's throat.

There was a moment of hushed silence, in which Trevor gulped; then there was a small pop, and Trevor the tadpole was wriggling in Snape's left palm.

The Gryffindors burst into applause. Snape, looking sour, pulled a small bottle from the pocket of his robe, poured a few drops on top of Trevor, and he reappeared suddenly, fully grown.

"Five points from Gryffindor," said Snape, which wiped the smiles from every face, because house points are so much more important than even a small animal's life.

* * *

Neville looked around rather wildly, as though begging someone to help him, then said, in barely more than a whisper, "Professor Snape."

Nearly everyone nodded in sympathy. Professor Lupin, however, looked concerned.

"…When a student's worst fear is a teacher, that's…that's extremely worrying. I'll have to have a little chat with Severus later…Anyway, Neville, I believe you live with your grandmother?"

"Er — yes," said Neville nervously. "But — I don't want the boggart to turn into her either."

"No, no, you…need to see me after class to discuss your home situation if you're that terrified of the person raising you," said Professor Lupin, looking increasingly pale.

* * *

"I would like all of you to take a moment now to think of the thing that scares you most, and imagine how you might force it to look comical—"

"How do you make rape look comical?" said Lavender, sticking up her hand.

"…You know, I'm not entirely sure what form the boggart would even take to portray that fear," Professor Lupin admitted.

"What about fear of the dark?" piped up one of the nameless Gryffindor girls that JKR kept saying she'd mention before completely forgetting about it again. "Or heights or enclosed spaces or _large_ spaces or crowds or drowning or public speaking?"

"If you were afraid of fire, would it turn into a lit match on the floor or would the entire room be set ablaze?" asked iheartmwpp.

"…You'd really think I'd know this stuff," muttered Lupin.

* * *

STOP RECAPPING QUIDDITCH, NO ONE'S READING THIS CRAP.

* * *

…Er…I'm pretty sure we know George's last name is Weasley…

* * *

"Crookshanks doesn't understand it's wrong!" said Hermione. "All cats chase rats, Ron!"

"Then why did you buy a cat when one of your best friends owns a damn rat?!" shouted Ron, who was trying to persuade a frantically wriggling Scabbers back into his pocket. "You said you were going to buy an owl, and instead you got something that the first thing it did was hurt me and go after my pet! Great judgment, there, Hermione, what brilliant friends we all are to each other this year, how considerate of you."

"This is getting almost as repetitive as the actual argument," muttered Harry. "JUST SNOG ALREADY."

* * *

The whole class was gathered around Lavender now. Seamus shook his head seriously. Hermione hesitated; then she said, "You — you were dreading Binky being killed by a fox?"

"Well, not necessarily by a _fox,"_ said Lavender, looking up at Hermione with streaming eyes, "but I was _obviously_ dreading him dying, wasn't I?"

"Oh," said Hermione. She paused again. Then—

"Was Binky an _old_ rabbit?"

"N-no!" sobbed Lavender. "H-he was only a baby!"

Parvati tightened her arm around Lavender's shoulders.

"But then, why would you dread him dying?" said Hermione.

"Just because something isn't old doesn't mean it's immortal," Parvati shot back at her, glaring. "There's such a thing as an infant mortality rate for a reason, you of all people should know random statistics like that!"

"…Look at it logically," said Hermione, ignoring Parvati and turning to the rest of the group. "I mean, Binky didn't even die today, did he? Lavender just got the new today—" Lavender wailed loudly. "—and she _can't_ have been dreading it, because it's come as a real shock—"

"Don't you tell me how I'm feeling right now!" Lavender shrieked at her. "You aren't allowed to take rabbits to Hogwarts so I had to leave him at home! Presumably I'm an only child so my parents had to look after it, and there's a high chance that they both work so they wouldn't be able to look after him all the time! I was _totally_ dreading word of his death because _I_ wasn't the one looking after him! Babies need constant attention, don't you know _anything?!"_ She dissolved into sobs again and buried her face in Parvati's shoulder.

"…I know it's too late, but I've had my pet rat for the last three years and Percy had him for four years before that," said Ron. "Despite Percy being a stickler for rules, rats aren't on the list of acceptable pets either. I think you might've been able to sneak him in and no one would've cared."

"I told my parents that," Lavender mumbled, "but they didn't want me to get in trouble as a bunny's a bit more conspicuous than a rat."

"I understand, sorry," said Ron.

* * *

"Sit down," said Lupin, taking the lid off a dusty tin. "I've only got teabags, I'm afraid – but I daresay you've had enough of tea leaves?"

Harry looked at him. Lupin's eyes were twinkling. Why isn't there a huge-ass conspiracy theory that Lupin and Dumbledore are related since they're the only two people in the whole series whose eyes twinkle.

"How did you know about that?"

"Professor McGonagall told me," said Lupin, passing Harry a chipped mug of tea. "You're not worried, are you?"

"No," said Harry.

I'm skipping this paragraph for the next joke to work.

Something of the skipped section seemed to have shown on Harry's face, because Lupin said, "Anything worrying you, Harry?"

"I JUST SAID NO, LEARN TO LISTEN."

* * *

"I didn't think of Voldemort," said Harry honestly. "I — I remembered those dementors."

"I see," said Lupin thoughtfully. "Well, well…I'm impressed." He smiled slightly at the look of surprise on Harry's face. "That suggests that what you fear the most is — depression. Very interesting, Harry."

"…"

* * *

Snape set down the smoking goblet, his eyes wandering between Harry and Lupin.

"I was just showing Harry my grindylow," said Lupin pleasantly.

"Is that what they're calling it these days," said Snape, because I like seeing you suffer. "You should drink that directly, Lupin."

"Yes, yes, I will," said Lupin.

"…That kind of implies that I want you to drink it right now, so I know you took it and I might have less horrible nightmare flashbacks."

"I know."

"…So you should drink it. Right now. While I watch."

"No, I don't think I will," said Lupin, smiling broadly.

"…You're an arsehole."

"YYYYYEP!"

* * *

Lupin drained the goblet and pulled a face.

"Tastes like goblin piss," he commented.

"Have lots of experience with that, do you, Professor?" Harry asked innocently. When Lupin glared at him, he shrugged. "Just trying to diffuse the tension."

* * *

Harry kept glancing at the staff table. Professor Lupin looked cheerful as ever on the anniversary of his best friends' deaths/imprisonment; he was talking animatedly to tiny little Professor Flitwick, the Charms teacher, in case you weren't aware by now. Harry moved his eyes along the table, to the place where Snape sat. Was he imagining it, or were Snape's eyes flickering toward Lupin more often than was natural? OH HAI SNUPIN EVIDENCE.

* * *

"The teachers and I need to conduct a thorough search of the castle," Professor Dumbledore told them as Professors McGonagall and Flitwick closed all doors into the hall so _they_ couldn't get out either. "I'm afraid that, for your own safety, you will have to spend the night here. Let us hope that all of the students in the school are actually all in here at this time since we certainly won't be doing a head count of any kind."

* * *

"The lights are going out now!" Percy shouted. "I want everyone in their sleeping bags and no more talking despite the fact that my order ten minutes ago was for you all to get into your sleeping bags and to stop talking!"

"That was never ten minutes just now!" cried the majority of the school.

"I'm afraid it was," said Percy stiffly.

"Oh no it wasn't!" the majority of the school countered.

Percy didn't dignify that with a response and the unnamed Head Girl continued to not do a damn thing.

* * *

"All well here?" asked Professor Dumbledore.

"Everything under control, sir," said Percy confidently. "Some of the students might still be awake what with all the excitement, though."

"Oh nonsense, I'm sure they're all comfortably asleep as small children are wont to do no matter how much they try to stay away for the hell of it."

"…Sir, most of them are in their late teens or are legal adults and therefore are practically programmed to stay up until five in the morning."

"There's no point in moving them all now," said Dumbledore quickly. As a quick aside, I almost typed Rumbleroar just there. You may giggle. "I've found a temporary guardian for the Gryffindor portrait hole. You'll be able to move them back in tomorrow."

"…Um, sir, I know it's not my place to question your infinite wisdom…"

"Oh by all means, dear boy, I too am prone to mistakes and welcome any insight you may provide."

"Well…Thing is, shouldn't we call in the Ministry? Get the Aurors involved, completely evacuate the school, possibly have the dementors do a sweep of the castle to make sure Black's gone? It would really be the responsible thing to do—"

"That idea's dumb and so are you," Dumbledore said shortly.

* * *

"There's no point hiding it from you any longer, Potter," McGonagall said in a very serious voice. "I know this will come as a shock to you, but Sirius Black—"

"I know he's after me," said Harry tersely. "I heard Ron's dad telling his mum. Mr. Weasley works for the Ministry of Magic. What's more, when he tried to tell me to my face I explained to him that I already knew, so he should've told the minister who should've told Dumbledore who should've told you that I knew. Way to communicate. Also way to leave me in the dark about the guy who's actively trying to kill me so when I wander aimlessly around the Forest as you know I like to do I can get murdered easily since my guard would've been completely down."

"…You can't play Quidditch anymore, you'll be really exposed and he might attack you."

"But I'm the best player on the team and you have a major bias for Gryffindor to win at Quidditch."

"This is true, never mind. But all the same, Potter, I'd be happier if a teacher were present. I'll ask Madam Hooch to oversee your training sessions; I'm sure one teacher sitting in one small area of the stands will definitely deter anyone hiding in a different area of the stands from shooting you down."

"Awesome."

* * *

"Flint's excuse is that their Seeker's arm's still injured," said Wood, grinding his teeth furiously. "But it's obvious why they're doing it. Don't want to play in this weather. Think it'll damage their chances…"

"What about that one time two years ago when I was in a three-day coma and you still had to play without _your_ Seeker?" Harry demanded. "They should just keep playing despite Malfoy's so-called _injury_, which he doesn't have because he's been faking it for over a month now!"

"That was the final, though, we had no choice but to play against Ravenclaw since it was the only option."

"So what? Why don't the teachers insist they play with a substitute or play without their Seeker since considering what happened two years ago this could be considered favoritism?"

"No, we need the drama of beating Slytherin specifically for the Cup," said Wood bitterly. "And we've been practicing all these moves assuming we're playing Slytherin, and instead it's Hufflepuff, and their style's quite different. They've got a new Captain and Seeker, Cedric Diggory—"

Angelina, Alicia, and Katie suddenly devolved into mindless fangirls and destroyed any modicum of respect I had for them.

"I cannot believe I date you and George marries you when you insist on acting like this," muttered Fred, glaring at Angelina in disgust.

* * *

But it wasn't Professor Lupin who looked up at him from the teacher's desk; it was Snape.

"This lesson began ten minutes ago, Potter, so I think we'll make it ten points from Gryffindor. Sit down."

But Harry didn't move.

"A wizard is never late, Professor Snape," he said in a gruff voice. "Nor is he early. He arrives precisely when he means to."

"Fifty points from Gryffindor and detention for the week, Potter," Snape spat.

"Also did you poison Professor Lupin."

"Oh how I wish…" said Snape softly, glazed eyes staring off into the distance. THEY ARE CLEARLY MEANT TO BE.

* * *

"Professor Lupin's the best Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher we've ever had," said Dean Thomas, oh really is that his last name I had no idea, boldly, and there was a murmur of agreement from the rest of the class. Snape snorted.

"Well obviously, after Quirrell and Lockhart _anyone_ would be better," he drawled.

"Umbridge," Seamus piped up.

"…Another ten points from Gryffindor."

"Oh come _on!"_ cried Seamus.

"Shut up, Potter!"

* * *

"Who can tell me how we distinguish between the werewolf and the true wolf?" said Snape.

Everyone sat in motionless silence, waiting with increased impatience for Pottermore to update and _maybe_ give us some relevant information for once, since the final chapters of PoA would be absolutely perfect to give us this stuff. Then again, so would the section in HBP when Remus explains about Greyback. Wouldn't it be absolutely _spectacular_ if we had to wait that long to find out how werewolves work in this universe? -_-

* * *

"Very poorly explained…that is incorrect, the kappa is more commonly found in Mongolia—"

Parvati reached into her bag, ripped open her copy of _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ to the section on kappas, and shoved it in Snape's face.

"…Twenty points from Gryffindor."

"That's not fair!" she cried.

"Shut up, Potter!"

* * *

Harry woke extremely early the next morning; so early that it was still dark. For a moment he thought the roaring of the wind had woken him. Then he felt a cold breeze on the back of his neck and sat bolt upright — Peeves the Poltergeist, because we had no idea that he was a poltergeist, had been floating next to him, blowing hard in his ear.

"Since when do you hang about in the dormitories?" asked Harry confusedly. "And if you can come in here at any time, why aren't you waking everyone in the school at ungodly hours all the time?"

"…GOT YOUR CONK!"

"GODDAMNIT!"

* * *

The noise of the storm was even louder in the common room. Harry knew better than to think the match would be canceled; Quidditch matches weren't called off for trifles like thunderstorms. Nevertheless, he was starting to feel very apprehensive. Wood had pointed out Cedric Diggory to him in the corridor; Diggory was a fifth year and a lot bigger than Harry. Seekers were usually light and speedy, but Diggory's weight would be an advantage in this weather because he was less likely to be blown off course.

Nevertheless, he was starting to feel very apprehensive. Wood had pointed out Cedric Diggory to him in the corridor; Diggory was a fifth year and a lot bigger than Harry. Seekers were usually light and speedy, but Diggory's weight would be an advantage in this weather because he was less likely to be blown off course.

Wood had pointed out Cedric Diggory to him in the corridor; Diggory was a fifth year and a lot bigger than Harry.

Diggory was a fifth year and a lot bigger than Harry.

Diggory was a fifth year.

A fifth year.

_Fifth. Year._

_**FIFTH.**_

* * *

"I've had an idea, Harry!" cried Hermione. "Give me your glasses, quick!"

He handed them to her, and as the team watched in amazement, Hermione tapped them with her wand and said, _"Impervius!"_

"There!" she said, handing them back to Harry. "They'll repel water!"

Wood looked as though he wanted to sink into the mud.

"I'm a bloody seventh year, you'd think I'd know that spell by now, why the hell didn't I think of that…"

* * *

HOW DOES NO ONE NOTICE THE MASSIVE DOG THING.

* * *

"Hufflepuff'll have to lose by at least two hundred points," said George.

"But if they beat Ravenclaw…" said Fred.

"No way, Ravenclaw is too good, even though Hufflepuff just kicked our asses implying that we don't stand a chance against Ravenclaw and should _totally_ just give up now."

"Harry, stop trying to slit your wrists with the bedpan, you're not helping."

"Ah crap, I'm going to have to clean that too, aren't I," muttered Ron. Hermione thwacked him.

* * *

_A/N: So I have a PS3 and I didn't try out that new Pottermore shit on PlayStation Home yet, has anyone else and should I even bother? I'm so used to it being such a massive disappointment that I didn't want to waste my time. Apart from the scant new information that's usually pointless, does anyone really care anymore? I know we should be grateful for giving us any of this new information to begin with, but...I think the encyclopedia would've been a whole lot easier and non-rage inducing. We could've waited, we're used to it! We're getting MORE used to it now, that's for damn sure...Still less rage-inducing than the Xbox One, I'll give it that. Seriously, don't get that. Do some research, see how fucked up it is, and don't get it. I don't care how faithful you are to Microsoft, show how much they messed up by not giving them your money, not for this._

**_Review or GODDAMN IT CEDRIC WAS A FUCKING FIFTH YEAR MEANING NEXT YEAR HE WILL BE A SIXTH YEAR MEANING HE'S IN THE SAME YEAR AS THE TWINS SO HE PROBABLY HAS A SEPTEMBER OR OCTOBER BIRTHDAY LIKE ANGELINA SO HE COULD PUT HIS NAME IN AND THEREFORE _I WAS FUCKING RIGHT_ SHIT I AM _STILL_ GETTING COMMENTS ON THIS CRAP TWO YEARS LATER _KNOCK IT OFF ALREADY JESUS FUCKING SHIT CHRIST.**


	3. Okay, Dementors Make No Fucking Sense

_A/N: Reading over one of these tiny sections again, I realized I watched WAY too much anime since my mid-teens. I regret little. Mainly Naruto. Post time skip; I will still defend the prepubescent stuff. After, though, fuck Sasuke and Obitobi in the Sharingan with Samehada. If you know what any of that means, you have also probably given up by now. Also I regret once owning Vampire Knight, which was basically Twilight before Twilight only no sparkles and was still better than Twilight._

_Also _This Is The End_ was hilarious. Yes._

**Disclaimer:** I kinda wanna play some more _Assassin's Creed. _Then, when I give up after failing the goddamn tank mission for the seventeenth time in a row (seriously, fuck the tank mission), I can watch some _Naruto: The Abridged Comedy Fandub Spoof Series Show_ to make myself feel better.And when the father person begs me to stop quoting _A Very Potter Sequel_ I can beat him up _à_ _la_ _The Three Stooges._ Did you know I didn't write _Harry Potter?_ I know, it surprised me too.

* * *

"I heard about the match," said Lupin, turning back to his desk and starting to pile books into his briefcase, "and I'm sorry about your broomstick. The fact that you fell fifty feet and nearly died evidently doesn't matter to me."

"I love you too," said Harry.

* * *

Lupin sighed.

"They planted the Whomping Willow the same year that I arrived at Hogwarts. People used to play a game, trying to get near enough to touch the trunk since there was no fence of any kind around it whatsoever. In the end, a boy called Davey Gudgeon nearly lost an eye, his parents sued the school, and we were forbidden to go near it. No broomstick would have a chance.

"…Wanna use some closing quotation marks there, Professor?" iheartmwpp asked innocently.

"No. I don't wanna."

"I have like three copies of this book, all American editions; one's hardcover, one's older paperback and one's slightly newer paperback with a different back cover thing. Why did they never bother to correct this across like three different editions."

"Because shut up."

"Aww…"

"Getting back to the matter at hand—" Harry began.

"Why, what's the matter with your hand?" said Black's head cheekily, sticking itself through the window.

"HOW THE HELL DID YOU GET UP HERE," shouted Lupin.

"It's a good thing I played all that _Assassin's Creed—_OH GOD _ASSASSIN'S CREED_ TAUGHT ME NOTHING!" Black screamed as he fell to his death. "That Ezio guy's full of _shit!"_

"…Well that was weird," said Harry. "Anyway, did no one think to cast _immobulus _or _petrificus totalus_ or perhaps_ impedimenta_ on the tree at any point?"

"They might've figured that the tree was so magical that it would repel any magic they would cast," said Lupin.

"Still couldn't hurt to try," Harry grumbled. "We _are_ wizards, after all, we should be trying to solve anything and everything with magic all the time."

* * *

"It has nothing to do with weakness," said Professor Lupin sharply, as though he had read Harry's mind. "The dementors affect you worse than the others because there are horrors in your past that the others don't have." Blah blah blah blah blah… "They drain peace, hope, and happiness out of the air around them." More blah. "Get too near a dementor and every good feeling, every happy memory will be sucked out of you." Even moar blah. "You'll be left with nothing but the worst experiences of your life. And the worst that happened to _you_, Harry, is enough to make anyone fall off their broom."

"…So dementors eat happiness, basically?"

"Basically, yes."

"…Then why the hell am I such a huge target for them."

"Because, like I said, there are horrors in your past—"

"Yeah, my life so far has really sucked," said Harry. "So why would a dementor really want to get at _me_ if they want all my happy memories? Shouldn't they have a greater effect on those whose lives are completely perfect, meaning they're happier and the dementors would have more to feed on? Why would they be so obsessed with some kid who barely has _any_ happiness in his life?"

Professor Lupin pondered this for several moments.

"The thing is, Harry, the dementors are essentially supposed to be physical manifestations of depression," he explained at length.

"I get that, but what they're supposed to be and what they're described to actually do don't line up at all."

"…Maybe they're just attracted to you because you have an extra eighth of a soul attached to your own?"

"I guess…"

* * *

"Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs," sighed George, patting the heading of the map. "We owe them so much."

"Noble men, working tirelessly to help a new generation of lawbreakers," said Fred solemnly.

"By invading everyone's privacy at all times," said George. "Just like the NSA."

"BOOM," said Professor McGonagall.

"Yeah, but everyone kind of figured that was happening already," Fred pointed out. "Hardly anyone knows about this, and it's not government sanctioned, so we're way worse apparently."

"Touché. Though we've been wondering who this young Peter character that keeps following Ron around is," George added. "He seems to always be trailing you, Ron, and Hermione, especially as of late, and yet when we actually see you there's no one else there."

"Would you mind pointing him out the next time you see him?" asked Fred. "We can't pay attention to _every_ ickle student running underfoot but we do like to keep track of who our siblings' friends are."

"…Are you sure this map's a hundred percent accurate?" asked Harry tentatively.

"It's never been wrong in our experience," said Fred.

"Yeah…See, I don't know any Peter."

"There's no one in your year named Peter Pettigrew?" said George, looking puzzled.

"I've never heard that name before in my life."

"…Okay, that's weird…"

* * *

"But what about Sirius Black?" Hermione hissed. "He could be using one of the passages on that map to get into the castle! The teachers have got to know."

"If any of the teachers _do_ know about the passageways, I'm sure someone would've informed Dumbledore by now," said Harry confidently.

Up in the Defense Against the Dark Arts office, Lupin suddenly sneezed into his mug of hot chocolate.

* * *

"So you'll be the red currant rum, Minister."

"Thank you, Rosmerta, m'dear," said Fudge's voice. "Lovely to see you again, I must say. Have one yourself, won't you? Come join us."

"I can't, I'm working and I can't drink on the job."

* * *

"Do you know, I still have trouble believing it," said Madam Rosmerta thoughtfully. "Of all the people to go over to the Dark Side, Sirius Black was the last I'd have thought…I mean, I remember him when he was attempting to murder his fellow students at Hogwarts. If you'd told me then what he was going to become, I…on second thought, maybe it's not so surprising after all…"

* * *

"You don't know the half of it, Rosmerta," said Fudge gruffly. "The worst he did isn't widely known."

"The worst?" said Madam Rosmerta, her voice alive with curiosity. "Worse than murdering all those poor people, you mean?"

"I certainly do," said Fudge. "Now let me exposit about it in a crowded pub where anyone can hear me and where rumors can easily be spread by any bartenders that happen to be working here."

"Details, details!"

* * *

"James Potter told Dumbledore that Black would die rather than tell where they were," said Professor McGonagall, "that Black was planning to go into hiding himself…and yet, Dumbledore remained worried. I remember him offering to be the Potter's Secret Keeper himself."

"But James Potter insisted on using Black?" gasped Rosmerta.

"He did," said Fudge heavily.

"…Why on Earth would he do that? If Black would rather die than betray his friends, and if everyone figured that he'd be used as the Secret Keeper, then wasn't Potter just putting his best friend in _more_ danger by painting such a huge target on Black's back, assuming Black wasn't the traitor? Wouldn't he _want _to use someone outside his circle of friends who was for the most part completely unreachable and who even You-Know-Who himself was afraid of?"

"You think that's horrible," said Flitwick, "I want to know why James and/or Lily weren't their own damn Secret Keepers for their own damn cottage. Bill sorts out Shell Cottage perfectly fine on his own four years from now, why couldn't they have done the same thing twelve years ago?!"

* * *

"You don't know what you're talking about, Hagrid," said Fudge sharply.

"Why am I even hangin' out with yeh, yer the one who threw me inter Azkaban meself fer no good reason last year. Fuck this, I'm outta here."

* * *

"You know," said Fudge slowly, "most of the prisoners in there sit muttering to themselves in the dark; there's no sense in them…but I was shocked at how _normal_ Black seemed. He spoke quite rationally to me. It was unnerving. You'd have thought he was merely bored — asked me if I'd finished with my newspaper, said he missed doing the crossword. Not entirely sure why I humored him, really, but I'm sure that particular edition of the _Prophet_ didn't expedite his decision to escape in any way. Yes, I was astounded at how little effect the dementors seemed to be having on him — and he was one of the most heavily guarded in the place, you know. Dementors outside his door day and night."

"Huh," said Madam Rosmerta. "So that thing you told me earlier about how the dementors prowling around Hogsmeade was a necessary precaution in order to recapture Black?"

"Yes…?"

"And you know how you just told me that they're actually totally ineffectual against him?"

"…Er—"

"So there's actually no point in them being here and you should've left them at Azkaban while you sent _Aurors_ or something in their place so this wouldn't be a huge waste of everyone's time and patience."

"THAT'S WHAT WE'VE BEEN TRYING TO TELL HIM ALL DAMN YEAR," shouted McGonagall and Flitwick while Hagrid cackled at the panicked expression on Fudge's face.

* * *

"Never bin anywhere like it," said Hagrid quietly. "Thought I was goin' mad. Kep' goin' over horrible stuff in me mind…the day I got expelled from Hogwarts…day me dad died…day I had ter let Norbert go…"

His eyes filled with tears. Norbert was the YOU HAVE GOT TO BE SHITTING ME WE'RE OVER HALFWAY THROUGH THE BOOK AND WE'RE STILL RECAPPING THIS STUPID BULLSHIT JESUS HARRINGTON CHRIST.

* * *

"But you were innocent!" said Hermione.

Hagrid snorted.

"Think that matters to them? They don' care. Long as they've got a couple o' hundred humans stuck there with 'em, so they can leech all the happiness out of 'em, they don' give a damn who's guilty an' who's not."

"…So it's an extremely bad idea to put them around a building full of children."

"YA FUCKIN' _THINK?!"_

* * *

Hermione had just come in, wearing her dressing gown and carrying Crookshanks, who was looking very grumpy, with a string of tinsel tied around his neck.

"Oh yeah, bring the cat into the room with the rat," Ron snarled, hurriedly snatching Scabbers from the depths of his bed and stowing him in his pocket.

"This is really starting to get old, you know," Hermione snapped back.

"Well if you _bothered to listen to me at all _or at least _used your brain once in a while—"_

"Oh look, a Firebolt."

"GODDAMNIT!"

* * *

Eyes open again, Professor Trelawney looked around once more and said, "But where is dear Professor Lupin?"

"I have no idea, the full moon was on the thirteenth," said Dumbledore, indicating that everybody should start serving themselves. They all stared at him. "What?"

* * *

"It shouldn't take more than a few weeks," said Professor McGonagall. "You will have it back if we are sure it is jinx-free."

"There's nothing wrong with it!" said Harry, his voice shaking slightly. "And you never did this when my Nimbus tried to throw me off so why are you so sure it's been tampered with _this_ time?"

* * *

"Because I thought — and Professor McGonagall agrees with me — that that broom was probably sent to Harry by Sirius Black!"

"…How."

"Because it would be the perfect way to kill Harry, wouldn't it? Just wait until he's doing the thing he loves, no one suspects anything—"

"No, I mean how would Black have even bought it."

"I don't know, he could've sent in an owl with instructions—"

"You have no idea how good this broom is," Ron explained. "It's the best broom in the world so everyone will probably be paying attention to who buys it, like with the Irish team. People would sit up and notice if Sirius Black bought one."

"And how exactly would Black get the money for it?" Harry added. "Even if the instructions said to give it to me, if Black even has a vault—"

"He totally does," said Ron.

"—then if the message said to take the gold out of his vault, wouldn't Quality Quidditch Supplies contact the Ministry and say an escaped mass murderer just purchased our broom for the Boy Who Lived? Or would they just be so grateful for the money that they wouldn't say anything?"

"…How _did_ Sirius actually get away with it?" asked Ron. "Who trusts a cat to deliver mail and why would you even take what was written on it at face value?"

* * *

At eight o'clock on Thursday evening, the naïve, underage young boy left Gryffindor Tower for the History of Magic classroom, where he would be given one-on-one lessons late at night by his much older adult male teacher on how to shoot a whitish substance out of his firmly gripped wand using only the power of his thoughts. Nyuk nyuk nyuk nyuk nyuk.

* * *

Professor Lupin continued, "The Patronus is a kind of positive force, a projection of the very things that the dementor feeds upon — hope, happiness, the desire to survive — but it cannot feel despair, as real humans can, so the dementors can't hurt it."

"…If it's made of the exact thing dementors eat, wouldn't it just slurp it up like a smoothie and continue making everyone miserable?"

"None of this makes any sense, Harry, but it works so just roll with it."

"Okay…"

"It can also only be cast by those with pure hearts, which is why Severus is the only Death Eater who can make one."

"Then how the _fuck_ can Umbridge manage one."

"I _really_ have no fucking idea."

* * *

"Did you see that?" said Harry excitedly. "Something happened!"

"Very good," said Lupin, smiling. "Right, then — ready to try it on a dementor?"

"…Not even close, shouldn't I get it fully formed before I attempt it on even a fake dementor?"

"Who's teaching the class here."

"Gulp."

* * *

"Harry, if you don't want to continue, I will more than understand—"

"I do!" said Harry fiercely, stuffing the rest of the Chocolate Frog into his mouth. "I've got to! What if the dementors turn up at our match against Ravenclaw? I can't afford to fall off again. If we lose this game we've lost the Quidditch Cup!"

"You also can't afford to fall off again because you might _die."_

"I don't follow you."

Lupin slapped himself.

* * *

"You heard James?" said Lupin in a strange voice.

"Yeah…" Face dry, Harry looked up. "Why — you didn't know my dad, did you?"

"I — I did, as a matter of fact," said Lupin. "We were friends at Hogwarts. Listen, Harry—"

"We're stopping the lessons for a moment so I can milk you for information."

"Oh. Um…"

"No, we're doing this."

* * *

"I've lost the passwords!" Neville told Harry and Ron miserably. "I made him tell me what passwords he was going to use this week, because he keeps changing them, and now I don't know what I've done with them!"

"Why don't you hang about with someone constantly so chances are they would know the password and you would never have to worry?" asked Harry. "In the Muggle world we practice the buddy system all the time, is that just too low for you uppity purebloods to practice?"

"No, I just don't have any friends."

Harry gaped at him.

"But…But we're your friends! Right, Ron?"

"Eh…" said Ron evasively. "More like acquaintances for another two years, to be honest…"

"…Wow. We are such arseholes."

"Pretty much."

* * *

Ms. Rowling? I do in fact know that George's last name is Weasley. He's the only George in the entire series so I figured he was the one who's a Weasley. I'm also quite aware of the last names of all the Gryffindor players. You know whose last name I don't know? Hermione. What was it again, could you remind me in the next paragraph or so?

* * *

Night had fallen before Madam Hooch awoke with a start, told Harry and Ron off for not waking her, and insisted that they go back to the castle on their own at night when there could be a mad mass murderer wandering around the grounds for all they know and could easily attack his supposed target at any time.

* * *

YES WE KNOW HIS NAME'S LEE JORDAN GODDAMNIT—_AGAIN _WITH GEORGE?! COME ON, STOP IT ALREADY, WE'RE NOT _THAT_ STUPID!

* * *

"HARRY, THIS IS NO TIME TO BE A GENTLEMAN!" Wood roared as Harry swerved to avoid a collision. "KNOCK HER OFF HER BROOM IF YOU HAVE TO!"

"THAT WOULD PROBABLY MEAN A FOUL, IDIOT!" Harry shouted back.

* * *

"An unworthy trick!" Professor McGonagall was shouting. "A low and cowardly attempt to sabotage the Gryffindor Seeker! Detention for all of you, and fifty points from Slytherin! After all, four students pretending to be really Dark, evil creatures and intending to cause panic amongst the student body, in addition to messing with Quidditch which everyone knows I have a very strong bias for, is _still_ not nearly as horrible as breaking curfew. I shall be speaking to Professor Dumbledore about this, mark my words!"

* * *

"IT WASN'T A NIGHTMARE!" Ron yelled. "PROFESSOR, I WOKE UP, AND SIRIUS BLACK WAS STANDING OVER ME, HOLDING A KNIFE!"

Professor McGonagall stared at him.

"Don't be ridiculous, Weasley, how could he possibly have gotten through the portrait hole? It isn't like there are any other entrances to this tower such as windows or anything like that!"

"Ask him!" said Ron, pointing a shaking finger at the back of Sir Cadogan's picture. "And if he didn't see anything, come upstairs and _look at my torn curtains."_

* * *

No one in Gryffindor Tower slept that night. They knew that the castle was being searched again, and the whole House stayed awake in the common room, waiting to hear whether Black had been caught and wondering why they and the rest of the school weren't being sent into the Great Hall again for the night. It was clear to all of them that Sir Cadogan couldn't be trusted, and even if a few of the teachers were guarding the portrait hole while the rest searched the castle, FUCKING WINDOWS, PEOPLE.

Throughout the day, everywhere they went they saw signs of tighter security; Professor Flitwick could be seen teaching the front doors to recognize a large picture of Sirius Black. Maybe it might have been a good idea to teach the _portraits_ how to recognize Sirius Black on sight, especially a certain portrait that was _guarding all of the small children the teachers are sworn to protect._ Actually, why didn't they do that in the first place if they were that concerned about security; why are desperate measures only being taken now, shouldn't they have gone above and beyond the call of duty from the get-go? Hell, maybe one or two of the portraits might catch sight of Sirius turning into a dog and then all the teachers can look at Lupin weirdly until he cracks.

* * *

Neville was in total disgrace. Professor McGonagall was so furious with the child with the well-known memory problems for losing a piece of paper that she had banned him from all future Hogsmeade visits for the rest of this year only, given him a single detention that was probably in the Forest again knowing her, and forbidden anyone to give him the password into the tower. Poor Neville was forced to wait outside the common room every night, with a mad killer on the loose that everyone thought was insane and would blow up anyone who got in his way, for somebody to let him in, somehow never overhearing the password despite whoever had to say it being right next to him.

…Minerva McGonagall's an asshole.

* * *

"Harry, if you go into Hogsmeade again…I'll tell Professor McGonagall about that map!" said Hermione.

"Can you hear someone talking, Harry?" growled Ron, not looking at Hermione.

"…Yes, Ron. Yes I can." Harry glared at him. "Hagrid _just_ told us to not be dicks to Hermione, and the minute you see her, you're being a dick to Hermione."

* * *

Harry and Neville set off without another word. As they turned the corner, Harry looked back. Snape was running one of his hands over the one-eyed witch's head, examining it closely.

So Harry decided to do the smart thing and stay as far away from the statue as he could for the rest of the day and work on his vampire essay with Neville. All was well.

* * *

Malfoy looked up at the crumbling house behind Ron.

"Suppose you'd love to live here, wouldn't you, Weasley? Dreaming about having your own bedroom? I heard your family all sleep in one room — is that true?"

"Nope."

"…Oh."

* * *

Harry tugged the cloak up again, but the damage was done. I didn't realize that "the damage was done" meant Malfoy had seen him and was gonna tell Snape and it was metaphorical for Harry's life at Hogwarts or whatever; I legit thought the cloak had _ripped_. Nine-year-olds are dumb.

* * *

Snape's sallow skin had gone the color of sour milk.

"And did the headmaster tell you the circumstances in which your father saved my life?" he whispered. "Or did he consider the details too unpleasant for precious Potter's delicate ears?"

Hey, wow, Dumbledore didn't tell Harry the full story about something. And no one was surprised.

* * *

"Indeed?" said Snape. His jaw had gone rigid with anger. "You think a joke shop could supply him with such a thing? You don't think it more likely that he got it _directly from the manufacturers?"_

Harry didn't understand what Snape was talking about. Nor, apparently, did Lupin.

"You mean, by Mr. Wormtail or one of these people?" he said. "Harry, do you know any of these men?"

"No," said Harry quickly.

"You see, Severus?" said Lupin, turning back to Snape. "It looks like a Zonko product to me—"

"Don't try to pull that with me, Lupin," Snape spat. "None of you were exactly secretive about your nicknames at school; I know _exactly_ who made this piece of crap."

"…Er—"

Right on cue, Ron came bursting into the office. He was completely out of breath, and stopped just short of Snape's desk, clutching the stitch in his chest and trying to speak.

"I — gave — Harry — that — stuff," he choked. "Bought — it…in Zonko's…ages — ago…"

"Well!" said Lupin, clapping his hands together and looking around cheerfully. "That seems to clear that up!"

"No it doesn't," Snape cut him off. "How did he know Potter was in trouble with me and how did he know about the supposed Zonko products in Potter's current possession."

"…Shit."

Harry and Ron gasped and covered their ears.

"I mean poopie."

* * *

"Yes, I know it's a map," said Lupin as Harry and Ron looked amazed. "I don't want to know how it fell into your possession even though that would probably be responsible of me so screw it. I am, however, _astounded_ that you didn't hand it in. Particularly after what happened the last time a student left information about the castle lying around."

"But it would just look like a piece of blank parchment, though," Harry insisted, then laughed. "I mean, it's not as though _Sirius Black_ would know exactly how the Marauder's Map works, that would just be stupid, amirite?"

"…"

* * *

_A/N: ...The pointless anime rant at the beginning meant to explain the extremely tiny part with Lupin sneezing. In Japanese culture, sneezing is basically the equivalent of your ears burning when someone's talking about you. I think it's sneeze once and someone's talking about you, sneeze twice and someone's saying something bad about you, sneeze three times and you have a cold. I THINK, Rurouni Kenshin had a dude sneeze three times and said it was the people being mean about you thing, I don't know, sneezing means people are saying things. With their mouths. About YOU._

_Now you know. And knowing is half the battle. G.I. JOOOOOOOOOEEEEEE!_

**_Review or you'll be forbidden to sleep in or even enter your own bedroom and as such you'll be forced to live in fear of either being exploded horribly by an insane mass murderer or beaten to death by trolls._**


	4. JUST FUCKING STUN HIM ALREADY, JESUS

_A/N: So I done goofed, as yoneld totally pointed out to me. I have no idea where I got my info last time when I researched this five million years ago but it was kind of horribly off: the full moon of December 1993 was totally on the twenty-eighth, which is nowhere near the thirteenth. Like, at all. Which still doesn't make sense for Remus to be "ill" on Christmas, he's clearly able to wander out and about the day of, we see that in this chapter. Probably just didn't wanna come out and face the dude who looks like his deaded bestest friendly-friend during the holidays...And now I haz a sadface. Here is my sadface. :'( It is a sadface._

_Also from the Department of Shit Only I Care About, I got Ni no Kuni for my birthday, and it's kind of frelling amazing. Imagine if the guys who made Spirited Away and Princess Mononoke and Howl's Moving Castle and like seven thousand other things made a video game—OH WAIT THEY TOTALLY DID. Best RPG I've played since FFIX, and since the last one I played was FFXIII...yeah. You can tame monsters in it and make them do your bidding and train them so they're stronger and can serve you betterer. So it's basically Studio Ghibli meets Final Fantasy meets Pokémon. And you can name them, and I'm naming more than a few of them after Pokémon. Because they're Pokémon. There's this one giant blue duck thing that Esther has when she joins your party that's already named Gogo or something, and Imma have to do a shitload of sidequests if I ever want to change his name to Psyduck._

**Disclaimer that I wrote before I got the aforementioned game: **I feel like I've been reading too much _Harry Potter_ and watching too much of _A Very Potter Sequel _recently, probably 'cause I'm trying to fill the gap left in me by a distinct lack of _Doctor Who _until November, though I could totally try playing some _Pokémon_ for a change, I've never actually read _Animorphs _but I know it's a thing that exists, and I've definitely been listening to way too much _PotterFicWeekly_ to try to drown out the wasp that's trapped in my wall. I also don't own an almanac, that's what the internet's for (and making sure the info's in fact correct shut up). Though I'm sure that kind of information would be pretty easy to access in any case. At any time. In probably any library. EASILY. (which is where I probably should've checked to start with again shut up)

* * *

Hermione joined them at the foot of the ladder to Professor Trelawney's classroom twenty minutes later, looking extremely harassed.

"I can't believe I missed Cheering Charms! And I bet they come up in our exams; Professor Flitwick hinted they might!"

"That's okay," said Harry, "just let us know when you have a lull in our workload and we can teach you exactly how to do it."

"Yeah, both of us actually got this one down in the first class we learned it for once," said Ron encouragingly. "You'll probably get it in five minutes! Less, I bet!"

"You guys," sobbed Hermione, smiling tearfully at them, and they hurriedly climbed the ladder before she could hug either of them again.

* * *

HOLY SHITBALLS NEVILLE'S LAST NAME IS LONGBOTTOM I HAD NO IDEA THIS IS MAJOR NEWS EVERYONE CELEBRATE THIS SUDDEN INFLUX OF BRAND-NEW INFORMATION.

* * *

We are _really _incapable of learning Lee's last name, ain't we. We're reminded of it _four entire times_ throughout the Quidditch Final, and also apparently we need to be constantly reminded as usual that Fred and George are, in fact, Weasleys.

* * *

Horrified, Harry looked around. Malfoy had thrown himself forward, grabbed hold of the Firebolt's tail, and was pulling it back.

"Penalty! Penalty to Gryffindor! I've never seen such tactics! Somehow! Even though it seems like kind of a basic thing to do in circumstances like this!" Madam Hooch screeched.

* * *

"Excellent, Harry," Lupin muttered as Harry climbed out of the trunk that was probably a TARDIS, grinning. "Full marks. Tell me, how _did_ you manage to beat a dementor-boggart, how do you make that funny?"

"That is an excellent question, Professor Lupin!" said Harry cheerfully.

"…"

"…"

"…Harry—"

"I LIKE MOO COW."

"…Good for you, Harry."

* * *

"Scabbers!" said Ron blankly. "Scabbers, what are you doing here? Why the hell didn't you leave Hogwarts altogether so Sirius would've had absolutely no way of tracking you down?"

"Not to mention you knew I had the cloak and probably heard us talking about the map as soon as I got it," Harry added. "Why did we never come up to the dormitory to find the map ripped to shreds and the cloak missing?"

"Hell, you probably overheard Fred and George talking about the map once _they'd_ first got a hold of it," Ron went on. "Why didn't you get rid of it then in case they ever caught sight of you and questioned why you were following Percy around when they couldn't see anyone with him?"

"…Pika pi?"

"There's never a straight answer with you, is there."

* * *

And there, at the base of the trunk, was the dog, who miraculously dodged all of the Whomping Willow's attacks despite not being fast as it once was even if it did know the tree's pattern — Ron was fighting furiously, but for some reason he was still keeping a tight grip on Scabbers, who apparently was not taking advantage of Ron's distress to escape the thing that had been hunting him all year in any way. Maybe if Ron had let the rat bastard go, his head and torso wouldn't be slipping out of sight — Why didn't anyone make some kind of alarm go off or block up the trunk altogether since everyone _knew_ Black knew about that tunnel and could've been hiding there this whole time—

* * *

…How did the bed go untouched, how did a fully-grown rampaging werewolf trapped in a tiny-ass house conveniently miss the bedroom.

* * *

Dude stop killing your godson.

* * *

"HE KILLED MY MUM AND DAD!" Harry roared…There is a lot of yelling, shouting, screaming, roaring, and dare I say _shrieking_ going on in the Shrieking Shack tonight, and none of it was the incoherent screams of agony from fifteen-ish years ago. You'd think phrases like "HE KILLED MY MUM AND DAD!" and "WE'RE UP HERE — SIRIUS BLACK — _QUICK!"_ and "GET OUT OF THE WAY, POTTER!" would raise a few eyebrows down in Hogsmeade and perhaps prompt some people to contact the Ministry or something responsible like that—I'm sorry, I couldn't finish that with a straight face.

* * *

Harry raised the wand. Now was the moment to do it. Now was the moment to avenge his mother and father. He was going to kill Black. He had to kill Black. This was his chance…

Only he had no idea how to do it magically short of a _diffindo_ to the jugular; in fact he might not even know that yet. He was better off beating Black to death with his fists earlier. Maybe he should go back to that…

* * *

"Professor," Harry interrupted loudly, "what's going on—?"

But he never finished the question, because what he saw made his voice die in his throat. Lupin was lowering his wand, gazing fixedly at Black. The Professor walked to Black's side, seized his hand, pulled him to his feet so that Crookshanks fell to the floor, and began snogging him passionately while ripping off both their clothes.

Harry felt as though the bottom had dropped out of his stomach as he watched one of the few adults he'd ever trusted furiously shagging the man who'd destroyed his life.

"THIS IS THE HOTTEST THING I'VE EVER _SEEN!"_ Hermione screamed.

:P

* * *

…Fuck you, Ron.

* * *

Lupin stopped dead. Then, with an obvious effort, he turned to Hermione and said, "How long have you known?"

"Ages," Hermione whispered. "Since I did Professor Snape's essay—"

"I'm sorry, I seem to have misheard that," Black cut in. "Can you repeat that, please, miss? In English this time?"

"…Since I did Professor Snape's essay?" Hermione repeated hesitantly.

"…Nope, still didn't catch that."

"Severus is teaching Potions, Sirius," Lupin explained tiredly.

"…Think I might've just choked on my own vomit," muttered Black.

"ADOPT ME," shouted Harry.

* * *

"There," said Lupin, sticking his own wand back into his belt. "You're armed, we're not. Now will you listen?"

Harry didn't know what to think. Was it a trick?

"Only bad guys ever explain anything flat-out to me," he said. "I have to overhear things from my own side to get any kind of exposition whatsoever. So…you're really not helping your case if you're trying to convince us you're good guys."

"Or we could be the only adults in the whole series who actually treat you like a young adult instead of a five-year-old and trust you to act responsibly with the information we give you," said Black reasonably.

"STOP MAKING ME LIKE YOU."

* * *

"The important thing is, I was watching the map carefully this evening, because I had an idea that you, Ron, and Hermione might try and sneak out of the castle to visit Hagrid before his hippogriff was executed. Admittedly I thought something was seriously wrong with the map since there was another Harry and Hermione wandering around the edge of Hagrid's Hut so I almost couldn't believe what I was seeing at first, but I wasn't about to take any chances when I saw Sirius Black attack Ron and possibly someone else and bring them down here so I left anyway. _Probably_ should've wiped it clean first, but cut me some slack, it's been a while since it's been in my possession, when you're not in the habit of doing something you tend to forget things."

* * *

…I wonder if while Percy still had Scabbers, Molly neutered him at any point. XP

* * *

Black stopped struggling, though his hollowed eyes were still fixed on Scabbers, who was clamped tightly under Ron's bitten, scratched, and bleeding hands.

"…Could you Stun him at least so he doesn't get away while you exposit and so he doesn't hurt that boy anymore," said Black grudgingly.

"That idea's dumb and so are you," said Lupin firmly.

"Why do we hang out."

* * *

"Because…because people would _know_ if Peter Pettigrew had been an Animagus. We did Animagi in class with Professor McGonagall. And I looked them up when I did my homework — and the Ministry of Magic keeps tabs on witches and wizards who can become animals; there's a register showing what animal they become, and their markings and things…and since turning into an animal is most every Muggle child's dream which is why the _Animorphs_ series was so popular when iheart was a baby kid, it would probably stand to reason that magical children would love to do it too, not to mention depending on the animal you could get away with so many things and break the law all the time and never get caught but of course no one would ever _dream_ of breaking the rules like that so obviously _everyone_ would register properly and legally…and I went and looked Professor McGonagall up on the register, and there have been only seven Animagi that registered legally this century, and Pettigrew's name wasn't on the list—"

Harry had barely had time to marvel inwardly at the effort Hermione put into her homework when Black spoke up.

"Was _I_ on that list?" he asked.

"N-No, but—"

"Yet you know I can turn into a dog at will."

"…That may be, but—"

"So it stands to reason that others can also turn into animals and not be on that list, correct?"

"…I suppose so..."

"Then shut the fuck up."

"Aww…"

* * *

Lupin broke off. There had been a loud creak behind him. The bedroom door had opened of its own accord. All five of them stared at it. Then Lupin strode toward it and looked out into the landing.

"No one there…"

"This place is haunted!" said Ron.

"It's not," said Lupin, drawing his wand. _"Homenum revelio!"_

A bright orange arrow appeared over their heads, pointing downward at a blank space near the opposite wall. Lupin crept over, stretched out his hand, and ripped Harry's Invisibility Cloak off of Professor Snape. Everyone stared at him in silence while he glared alternatively at Lupin, Black, and Harry.

"…Why didn't you just listen in from outside so you wouldn't alert anyone to your presence?" asked Lupin.

"Fuck you, that's why."

* * *

"Hurry up, Remus," snarled Black, who was still watching Scabbers with a horrible sort of hunger on his face. "And could you possibly condense it a bit, no one wants to hear your life story, which is why they cut it from the film because who cares about making things make sense."

"I'm getting there, Sirius, I'm getting there…and I _am_ keeping it short, there's got to be something I'm not mentioning that'll appear on Pottermore in a few years!"

"Nah, it's probably just going to be a summary of this while _maybe_ mentioning where you've been the past twelve years."

"And there is absolutely no way we're going to be that lucky."

"Not a chance in hell."

* * *

Black made a derisive noise.

"It served him right," he sneered. "Sneaking around, trying to find out what we were up to…hoping he could get us expelled…"

"So you attempted to murder him?" said Harry in disbelief. "Just because he was following you around all the time?"

"…Yes?"

"I am back to disliking you heavily."

"Aww…"

* * *

"Severus was very interested in where I went every month," Lupin told Harry, Ron, and Hermione, the latter of which was now convinced that Snape fancied Lupin and didn't know any other way to express it beyond stalking. "We were in the same year, you know, and we — er — didn't like each other very much. He especially disliked James. Jealous, I think, of James's talent on the Quidditch field—"

"No, James hated Snivellus for being friends with Lily and getting his grease all over her," said Black, "and Snivelly's just a slimy git like that."

"Snape was friends with my _mum?"_ cried Harry.

"Yeah, 'course they were, they never exactly hid it. Then he called her a Mudblood and she rightfully chucked the Death Eating bastard."

"Dumbledore wouldn't trust him so much if he was a Death Eater," said Lupin tiredly.

"He's certainly evil enough to be one…"

"What's a Death Eater?" asked the trio.

"We are getting _so_ off-topic right now…" muttered Lupin.

* * *

Severus Snape was pulling off the Invisibility Cloak, his wand pointing directly at Lupin. And not Black for some reason even though he's the one who supposedly betrayed Lily to Voldemort and he's the guy who Snape probably despises more.

* * *

Snape was slightly breathless, but his face was full of suppressed triumph. "You're wondering, perhaps, how I knew you were here?" he said, his eyes glittering. "I've just been in your office, Lupin. You forgot to take your potion tonight, so I took a gobletful along."

"Did you bring it with you?" said Lupin quickly, turning white.

"…I did not."

"Oh." Lupin looked resigned. "I suppose that's all right, the full moon's…not even for another two weeks plus, why are we freaking out, I don't even _need_ the potion at all this week. Thank God, too, that stuff's nasty."

"…The full moon's tonight, though."

"No it isn't."

"…Yes it really is."

"Today's the sixth, the full moon's on the twenty-second."

"But…That's not—"

"I like to think I know a _little_ more about this than you, Severus."

"…Was I thinking of _last_ year?"

"When it was on the fourth and therefore wouldn't matter since it would've been two nights ago?"

"What, no three day thing?"

"…Don't _think_ so…"

"I thought you knew more than I did."

"Shut it, Butt Trumpet."

* * *

BANG! Thin, snakelike cords burst from the end of Snape's wand and twisted themselves around Lupin's mouth, wrists, and ankles; he overbalanced and fell to the floor, unable to move. With a roar of rage, Black started toward Snape, but Snape pointed his wand straight between Black's eyes.

"Why am I not instantly tying you up as well," he whispered. "In fact, why didn't I Stun both you and Lupin when I was still invisible."

* * *

"Come on, all of you," said Snape. He clicked his fingers, and the ends of the cords that bound Lupin flew to his hands. "I'll drag the werewolf out into the open when the moon _is_ full tonight and a cloud will shift any second now so really I'm suggesting putting all of you in more danger than anything else right now."

* * *

"YOU'RE PATHETIC!" Harry yelled. "JUST BECAUSE THEY ATTEMPTED TO MURDER YOU AT SCHOOL YOU WON'T EVEN LISTEN—"

* * *

"You shouldn't have done that," said Black, looking at Harry. "You should have left him to me…"

"Yes, because you totally had a wand."

"I HAD EVERYTHING UNDER CONTROL."

"I'm sure you did."

* * *

"We attacked a teacher…We attacked a teacher," whispered the girl who once set said teacher on _fire_ which could be considered more horrible than just knocking him out, staring at the lifeless Snape with frightened eyes. "Oh, we're going to be in so much trouble—"

* * *

"How did you get this?" Lupin asked Black, thunderstruck.

"Fudge," said Black. "When he came to inspect Azkaban last year, he gave me his paper. For some reason. And there was Peter, conveniently on the front page…must've been a slow news day…"

"I need to read the _Prophet _more often," Lupin muttered to himself.

* * *

Pettigrew was muttering distractedly; Harry caught words like "far-fetched" and "lunacy," but he couldn't help paying more attention to the ashen color of Pettigrew's face and the way his eyes continued to dart toward the windows and door. Why he didn't just transform again and attempt to make a break for it? And why weren't Black and Lupin using _petrificus totalus_ on him to make sure he didn't get away? Hell, why wasn't Harry?! Or Hermione, she was great at that spell…Ron was injured and in shock, he was excused, but the other four sure as hell weren't.

* * *

"Well—Scabbers—I mean, this—this man—he's been sleeping in Harry's dormitory for three years," said Hermione as Harry and Ron shuddered violently at all the implications that prompted. "If he's working for You-Know-Who, how come he never tried to hurt Harry before now?"

"There!" said Pettigrew shrilly, pointing at Ron with his maimed hand even though Hermione had been the one talking.

* * *

But Ron was staring at Pettigrew with the utmost revulsion.

"I let you sleep in my _bed!"_ he said. "You've listened to all of our private conversations since we got to Hogwarts, probably even before that! You've seen us _naked!_ _I'VE HAD TO CLEAN UP YOUR SHIT AND PISS FOR THE LAST THREE YEARS!"_ Ron scrambled to the other side of the bed and began vomiting violently.

"…Why do I never tell the Dark Lord about any of this probably coveted information concerning the private life of the Boy Who Lived," Pettigrew muttered to himself.

* * *

"Get off me," Harry spat, throwing Pettigrew's hands off him in disgust. "I'm not doing this for you. I'm doing it because — I don't reckon my dad would've wanted them to become killers — just for you."

No one moved or made a sound except Pettigrew, whose breath was coming in wheezes as he clutched his chest. Black and Lupin were looking at each other.

"…We were in a _war_, Harry," Black said at length. "There are a lot of things you usually wouldn't do, but sometimes desperate circumstances call for really desperate measures."

"And I definitely don't seem averse to killing four years from now, do I," Lupin reasoned.

"Self-defense good," Harry agreed. "Cold-blooded revenge murder when the other dude's unarmed, begging for mercy, and not fighting back in any way, bad."

"…You're no fun," grumbled Black, then jerked his head up. "Hey, you just tried to kill _me!_ Why want to murder me and not the actual dude who ruined all our lives?"

"'Cause you were fighting back still and were not giving off any signs you were innocent or regretful in any way."

"But I was begging to tell you what really happened, though!"

"BECAUSE THE PLOT SAID SO, NOW SHUT UP."

* * *

"Very well," said Lupin. "Stand aside, Harry."

Harry hesitated.

"I'm going to tie him up," said Lupin. "That's all, I swear."

"You might want to Stun or Petrify him as well," said Black reasonably. "Just to make sure he doesn't transform and escape on us."

"That is dumb and so are you."

"We are such _idiots."_

"Pretty much."

* * *

Lupin hurried over to Ron, bent down, tapped Ron's leg with his wand, and muttered, _"Ferula."_ Bandages spun up Ron's leg, strapping it tightly to a splint. Lupin helped him to his feet. Ron put his weight gingerly on the leg and didn't wince.

"That's better," he said. "This seems like a really useful spell, really. I can't wait to see it used to its full potential when Harry gets his leg broken by that acromantula since there's no way Dumbledore would just drag him around most of the castle expecting him to just hobble around and milk him for information before he even thinks about bothering to heal him—"

"Get the fuck outta my school," said Dumbledore mildly.

* * *

"There's nothing seriously wrong with him," said Lupin, bending over Snape and checking his pulse. "You were just a little — overenthusiastic. Still out cold. Er — perhaps it will be best if we don't give him any evidence that we were right so he could help us make our case since even though we have evidence we're also just a group of wanted criminals, werewolves, and children so we really need all the help we can get. But that would be smart so fuck it."

* * *

"And two of us should be chained to this," said Black, nudging Pettigrew with his toe.

"I'll do it," said Lupin. "This is _so_ much better than Stunning him as well and levitating both him and Severus out of here!"

"And I'm incredibly injured so he'll be able to escape from me easily!" Ron volunteered, limping forward.

"THIS IS THE BESTEST SMARTEST GROUP WE HAVE EVER BEEN A PART OF," cried Harry and Hermione.

* * *

Harry went right after Black, who was still making Snape drift along ahead of him; he kept bumping his lolling head on the low ceiling. Clearly Harry, Ron, and Hermione would have to crawl through this tunnel in four years, it was so low, which is why Black, Lupin, Pettigrew, and even Ron were wandering down it with relative ease. Hell, I'm pretty sure _Prongs_ could get through this shit, how else were they going to sneak Moony out if they didn't all transform at once?!

* * *

"Of course, I thought you wouldn't want to," said Black quickly. "I understand, I just thought I'd—"

"Are you insane?" said Harry, his voice easily as croaky as Black's. "Of course I want to leave the Dursleys! Have you got a house? When can I move in?"

Black turned right around to look at him; Snape's head was scraping the ceiling but Black didn't seem to care.

"…Harry, why are you so eager to live with someone you just met and whom you just tried to murder?"

* * *

Silently they tramped through the grounds, the castle lights growing slightly larger. Snape was still drifting weirdly ahead of Black, his chin bumping on his chest. And then—

A cloud shifted. There were suddenly dim shadows on the ground. Their party was bathed in starlight. But since the moon was just a sliver in the sky, they eventually made their way back to the castle, explained their case, and Dumbledore managed to convince Fudge to clear Black's name by reminding him that Black had been imprisoned during the previous administration so he was merely trying to right an atrocious wrong that had been committed before his time.

Harry still had to live with the Dursleys for the first couple of weeks every summer, but they were much more enjoyable than before now that he had a large black dog to play with, and after a fortnight, the dog would disappear and a man with long black hair would show up, riding a large motorbike and taking Harry to a lovely summer home out in the country where they spent their days talking about their respective years at Hogwarts and making up for lost time.

Professor Lupin often came to visit, and was soon known throughout the wizarding world as the first Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher in over forty years to retain the job for more than one year…until Snape got fed up and announced his condition to his House on Christmas the following year, but over three quarters of the student body rose as one to defend him and he was able to stay on despite the naysayers.

Aaaand Buckbeak actually got killeded. All was well.

* * *

_A/N: __Hey, Aster! You're actually totally psychic, I had that final section written before you sent that review! Hopefully it's similar to what you had in mind! And frankly I'm working on a long-ass AU story that explores part of that way more, but not only do I want to have it at least mostly written so I won't abandon it like I've done with a few other stories I've since deleted, but I really want to know at least Remus's full canonical backstory before I go through with it because I'd hate to have to contradict myself later. So you'll see that in about six or seven years because Pottermore's the bestest thing in the world. XD_

_Also I am TOTALLY taking requests for the next four books, you guys, they're really friggin' long and I don't know if I can remember every single plot hole or thing that can be made fun of in existence. Throw me a PM or a review or whatever if you feel like I might miss something or never brought it up before or whatever; no promises but I'll try to remember who said what when. Unless I specifically tell you I already know about or have planned something, in which case I will ignore you utterly. Moo ha, moo ha ha ha._

**_Review or I'll follow up on that slash section in graphic detail. X3_**


	5. Dumbledore's The Most Responsible Person

_A/N: There's no way to mention it within the narrative, but on the cover of the American edition, there are a bunch of animals running around, you got your rats, your hippogriffs, your werewolves, your Patronuses (Patroni?), all that stuff, and it's clearly depicting the night of the book's climax...but the moon ain't full. 'Tis a crescent. And people're wondering why we're getting new book covers in the States later this year. You guys see the CoS one yet, it looks GREAT! I am SO hyped for PoA's to be revealed, you don't even know!_

_Also moar full moon foul-ups that went unnoticed by me but that The Golden Dragon Lord caught easily, way to go you. September 1, 1993, was a full moon. So there was a high chance Remus could've transformed at any point on the train and eaten all the little kiddies before the dementors got a chance to, which would've been spectacular, I'm sure...though not entirely unexpected. The Ministry wants to protect the kids from a mad mass murderer by stationing barely controllable soul-sucking demons directly around them, and Dumbledore wants to protect the kiddies from both by having a person who WOULD be turned into an uncontrollable rage monster with a craving for human flesh. Sure he might've been on Wolfsbane but panic would still be caused and suddenly they're bereft of a Patronus Charm, so still all of the bad things._

_Or he could've transformed at the feast, that would've been more amusing: "Everyone, I'd like to introduce you to your new DADA professor, Remus Lupin." "Thank you, Professor Dumbedore, it's great to—ARAWARAGRARAR." "...Well this sucks." I hate it when I miss stuff. Which is why y'all are infinitely more awesome, but you knew that._

**Disclaimer:** You guys. _You guys._ She had this all planned. Every last detail. She is literally one of _the_ bestest writers in the world. You knew that already but you have no idea how well you knew it until you reread the stuff from one of the teeny sections I just ripped up. It is the greatest realization I've ever experienced in my life. Which really shows you how much I need to get out more but WHO CARES THIS IS THE BEST THING EVER.

Also this one time a group of dudes created _A Very Potter Musical_ as well as _Holy Musical B(at sign)man_. And _Farscape_ is a thing that exists. And I should really watch _Back to the Future _sometime...

* * *

There was a howl and a rumbling growl; that sounds like a line from a song; Harry turned to see the werewolf taking flight; it was galloping into the forest and away from the humans it was basically programmed to rip apart because that makes perfect sense—

* * *

But then, from beyond the range of their vision, Harry and Hermione heard a yelping, a whining: a dog in pain…

"Sirius," Harry muttered, staring into the darkness.

He had a moment's indecision, but there was nothing they could do for Ron at the moment besides levitate him up to the castle themselves to prevent him from possibly being eaten by a werewolf assuming Moony got bored in the forest, and by the sound of it, the guy they'd just met like two hours ago and was therefore way more important than their best friend of two years was in trouble—

* * *

The yelping stopped abruptly. As they reached the lakeshore, they saw why — Sirius had turned back into a man instead of staying as a dog so the dementors wouldn't hurt him which he was able to do with ease in Azkaban so why was he messing up now.

* * *

"_Expecto patronum!_ Hermione, help me! _Expecto patronum!"_

"…Harry I have no idea what I'm supposed to be doing."

* * *

"Nasty cut you've got there…Black's work, I suppose?"

"As a matter of fact, it was Potter, Weasley, and Granger, Minister…"

"_No!"_

"Black had bewitched them, I saw it immediately. A Confundus Charm, to judge by their behavior. Please don't check either my wand or Lupin's, just have the dementor Kiss people so we can just end this with little to no evidence like always."

"But of course, why would I do anything else?"

"See, this is why you get the votes. Also Lupin and Black were saying something about illegal Animagi, but I was too busy plotting their violent deaths to pay too much attention, I'm sure it's not important."

"Indeed, my good man, even though we could use every scrap of incriminating information we can to persecute as many people as possible so I'm sure if it _was_ important you wouldn't hesitate to bring it to my attention immediately."

"Right in one, Minister, right in one."

* * *

"Potter," said Madam Pomfrey soothingly, "it's all right. They've got Black. He's locked away upstairs. The dementors will be brought up to basically administer the death penalty inside a teacher's office at a public school instead of somewhere more suitable and less traumatizing like the actual Ministry any moment now—"

"That sounds terrifying and horrible and horribly terrifying."

"YYYYYYEP."

* * *

"You see, Minister?" said Snape. "Confunded, both of them…Black's done a very good job on them…"

"SO CAST _FINITE INCANTATEM!"_ Harry roared.

* * *

"I suppose he's told you the same fairy tale he's planted in Potter's mind?" spat Snape. "Something about a rat, and Pettigrew being alive—"

"That, indeed, is Black's story," said Dumbledore, surveying Snape closely through his half-moon spectacles.

"And does my evidence count for nothing?" snarled Snape. "Peter Pettigrew was not in the Shrieking Shack, I heard nothing about illegal Animagi even though I totally heard all about the illegal Animagi, nor did I see any sign of him on the grounds."

* * *

"The dementors should have arrived by now," said Fudge. "I'll go and meet them. Dumbledore, I'll see you upstairs."

"I'm sorry, Cornelius," said Dumbledore, turning to face him, the twinkle gone from his eyes, "but I'm afraid that no dementor will cross the threshold of this castle while I am headmaster. You will have to make plans to transfer Sirius Black to somewhere within the Ministry where he can be Kissed in a more appropriate setting."

"Now see here, Dumbledore, Black has escaped capture enough times as it is! We have to make sure he doesn't do so again! We have to do this _now!"_

"Just keep him Stunned until he's about to be Kissed, then," said Dumbledore reasonably. "Hell, keep him unconscious the whole time if you have to, it should be fine."

"What? That's stupid, _you're_ stupid!"

* * *

"It is your turn to listen, and I beg you will not interrupt me, because there is very little time despite the fact that one of us has a freaking _time machine,"_ said Dumbledore quietly. "There is not a shred of proof to support Black's story, except your word—and the word of two thirteen-year-old wizards will not convince anybody."

"I'm fourteen," Hermione cut in softly.

"You're not Harry so I don't care."

* * *

"_But you believe us," _said Harry desperately.

"Yes, I do," said Dumbledore quietly. Despite everything, he believed them quite readily. Perhaps because he'd always questioned what went on during that time, but if so, with all his Head of the Wizengamot and Supreme Mugwump powers of powerful powery-ness, why did he never ensure that the poor bastard _**HAD A FUCKING TRIAL JESUS HORATIO WADSWORTH CHRIST.**_ "But I have no power to make other men see the truth even though I totally do and most people would easily take my word for it at this juncture, or to overrule the Minister of Magic even though I could probably easily do that as well but forget about it."

Harry stared up into the grave face and felt as though the ground beneath him were falling sharply away. He had grown used to the idea that Dumbledore could solve anything, for some reason, even though he had always had to take care of his own damn self and Dumbledore was really just there to explain what had just happened after the fact. He had expected Dumbledore to pull some amazing solution out of the air; really, he had expected Dumbledore to actually do something_ himself_ to save the school for once. But no…their last hope was gone.

"What we need," said Dumbledore slowly, and his light blue eyes moved from Harry to Hermione, "is more _time."_

"But—" Hermione began. And then her eyes became very round. "Oh you are _not_ trusting two children with this monumental task that could destroy the fabric of the universe itself."

"Why yes. Yes I am."

"…But you're coming with us at least, right?"

"Of course not, my child, why would I ever do a thing like that?"

"…So you can be responsible for once in your frelling life?"

"I don't follow you. Now pay attention—"

"I don't have it with me," said Hermione.

"…What," said Dumbledore slowly, staring at her.

"Professor McGonagall told me to only use it for classes," Hermione explained patiently. "We had our last exam earlier today so I turned it in to her as soon as it was over. I no longer have it."

"…Sirius will be Kissed within the next ten minutes. Have a pleasant evening, children!" Dumbledore tap-danced out the door as Harry collapsed to the floor, sobbing hysterically.

* * *

"Hermione," said Harry suddenly, "what if we—we just run in and grab Pettigrew—"

"No!" said Hermione in a terrified whisper. "Don't you understand? We're breaking one of the most important wizarding laws! Nobody's supposed to change time, nobody! The consequences could be disastrous! The resulting paradox could cause a chain reaction, unravel the very fabric of the space-time continuum and destroy the entire universe!" She calmed down slightly. "Granted, that's a worst-case scenario. The destruction might in fact be very localized, limited to merely our own galaxy."

"…Which is why we're totally doing it right now and why you've been doing it all year. For the sake of a dude we barely know, an animal, and extra homework."

"…Dumbledore said it was okay!"

"Then why didn't Dumbledore do it instead since he's less likely to fuck it up."

"DO NOT QUESTION HIS INFINITE KNOWLEDGE."

"…I think you're idolizing him a little too much—"

"YOU KNOW NOTHING!"

"…While we're on the topic, you couldn't squeeze in a couple hours of extra sleep when you were going back in time and stuff? Perhaps a few extra hours in the library so you'd be less stressed and less likely to jump off the Astronomy Tower?"

"**I HANDLED EVERYTHING PERFECTLY."**

"I'm sure you did."

* * *

WHY ARE ALL DEATHS CARRIED OUT AT HOGWARTS THE FINAL BATTLE SHOULDN'T HAVE SCARRED ANYONE FOR LIFE SINCE THEY'RE _ALREADY_ SO SCARRED FOR LIFE BY ALL THE RAMPANT SLAUGHTER _CARRIED OUT BY THE GOVERNMENT ON THE SCHOOL GROUNDS WHERE PEOPLE BREAK CURFEW ALL THE FUCKING TIME._

* * *

Hermione's white face was sticking out from behind a tree.

"Harry, hurry!" she mouthed.

"Why aren't you helping me?!" Harry furiously mouthed back.

* * *

_[_"_Here comes Lupin!" said Harry as they saw another figure sprinting down the stone steps and haring…]_

iheartmwpp paused. She immediately went to dictionary dot com, ignored all the definitions of _hare _basically being rabbit except it's not a rabbit even though it's basically a rabbit, and jumped to the section labeled _**verb (used without object)**_

6. _Chiefly British. _To run fast.

And then she fell off the bed due to laughter, because she just realized that the one guy in the series who was once described as having a badly behaved rabbit had just been described as _haring_. This is why this is the second best book ever written by a human.

* * *

Harry looked up at the sky. Clouds were obscuring the moon completely.

"…Hermione? Even if there are clouds, shouldn't a werewolf transform when the moon's full? I mean, they shouldn't need direct moonlight, should they? If they did they could just hide under a ceiling in a room with no windows and not transform at all, right?"

"Pfft, I don't fucking know."

"Fantastic."

* * *

"…So why can't we take this time to run up to Snape's office, grab the Wolfsbane Potion, and leave it by the tree's entrance or something so Lupin won't eat everyone?"

"Harry, I told you, _we mustn't be s—"_

"Yeah, yeah, I know, this is just so _frustrating."_

"Now you know how I've felt all year."

"Yeah…"

"…"

"…So when do we kill Hitler?"

"_Would you shut up?!"_

* * *

"Here we come!" Hermione whispered.

She and Harry got to their feet. Buckbeak raised his head. They saw Lupin, Ron, and Pettigrew clambering awkwardly out of the hole in the roots. Then came Hermione…which wasn't right, she was meant to come up _after_ Snape, Black, and Harry.

The two of them looked at each other in horror. What had they done?

* * *

"So we're just going to let Pettigrew escape all over again…" said Harry quietly.

"How do you expect to find a rat in the dark?" snapped Hermione.

"_Lumos,"_ Harry replied instantly. "Also where the hell is Crookshanks right now, he could help us easily."

"We came back to help Sirius; we're not supposed to be doing anything else!"

"We're also not supposed to be changing the flow of time, and since when have you been against doing a little more work for the best result possible?"

"Fuck you."

"Fuck fuck _you!"_

* * *

"Stand back!" Hermione called to Black, and she took out her wand, still gripping the back of Harry's robes with her left hand.

"_Alohomora!"_

The window sprang open.

"How—how—?" said Black weakly, marveling at how shitty the Hogwarts security was and also wondering how the fuck he was supposed to be able to ride about on a hippogriff without bowing to it first.

* * *

"He must have Disapparated, Severus, because as Minister for Magic I am completely unaware of common knowledge like people not being able to Apparate or Disapparate within the castle. We _really_ should have left somebody in the room with him, I can't _believe_ how conveniently incompetent we've been this year…"

* * *

Fudge, Snape, and Dumbledore came striding into the ward. Dumbledore alone looked calm. Indeed, he looked as though he was quite enjoying himself. Neither Fudge nor Snape were questioning why Dumbledore looked so happy in light of a supposed _mad mass murderer loose in the school once again_.

* * *

"Well, there you have it, Severus," said Dumbledore calmly. "Unless you are suggesting that Harry and Hermione are able to be in two places at once, I'm afraid I don't see any point in troubling them further."

"Hang on a second," said Fudge, slamming his fist into his hand. "I _definitely_ remember signing something that authorized the use of one of our precious Time-Turners by an overachieving student. Is the girl by any chance that student?"

"No," said Dumbledore quickly at the same time that Snape yelled a triumphant "YES." They looked at each other as Harry and Hermione started to hyperventilate under Fudge's accusatory gaze.

* * *

"The _Daily Prophet's _going to have a field day! We had Black cornered and he slipped through our fingers yet again! All it needs now is for the story of that hippogriff's escape to get out, and I'll be a laughingstock! Which is totally why I still have this job for two more years and no one kicked me out beforehand! Well…I'd better go notify the Ministry, suddenly far far calmer than I've been in the whole series for some reason…"

"And the dementors?" said Dumbledore. "They'll be removed from the school, I trust?"

"Oh yes, they'll have to go," said Fudge, running his fingers distractedly through his hair. "Never dreamed they'd attempt to administer the Kiss on an innocent boy…Completely out of control…no, I'll have them packed off back to Azkaban tonight, no one really cares if they get out of control there and even if they did being out of our control is in no way connected to them actually leaving their posts…Perhaps we should think about dragons at the school entrance except we won't follow through with that at all, nor will we put any kind of guard or lookout around the school whatsoever or cancel the extremely attention-provoking Tournament that'll be held at the place that the murderer has shown no clear sign of permanently leaving…"

* * *

Harry scrambled to his feet.

"I'm going to see Lupin," he said to Ron and Hermione.

"But if he's resigned—"

"—doesn't sound like there's anything we can do so let's just give up and do nothing instead of gathering signatures or rallying most of the school to try and convince him to rethink his decision or urge Dumbledore to not accept his resignation—"

* * *

Harry took the map and grinned.

"You told me Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs would've wanted to lure me out of the school…you said they'd have thought it was funny."

"And so we would have," said Lupin, now reaching down to close his case. "I have no hesitation in saying that James would have been highly disappointed if his son had never found any of the secret passages out of the castle."

"Well, I did find the Chamber of Secrets last year."

"…Well that beats out everything we ever did. That's it, I'm sticking around an extra day, you're showing me where it is, and you can help me and Padfoot add it to the map sometime this summer."

"You two seriously need to adopt me. Like, right now."

* * *

Harry sat down in Lupin's vacated chair, staring glumly at the floor. He heard the door close and looked up. Dumbledore was still there.

"Why so miserable, Harry?" he said quietly. "You should be very proud of yourself after last night."

"…My favorite teacher of all time just left the school?" said Harry, staring at Dumbledore incredulously.

* * *

"Was it—was Professor Trelawney making a real prediction?"

Dumbledore looked mildly impressed.

"Do you know, Harry, I think she might have been," he said thoughtfully. "Who'd have thought it? That brings her total of real predictions up to two. I should offer her a pay raise…"

"But—" Harry looked at him, aghast. How could Dumbledore take this so calmly? "I just told you Voldemort's gonna come back and murder everyone, and you're okay with this."

"Yeah, it's pretty awesome."

"No. No it isn't. Stop it."

* * *

"Oh, cheer up, Harry!" said Hermione quietly. "I know your family shows every sign of being abusive, but just keep a positive attitude and maybe they won't strangle you or treat you like shit!"

"Go fuck yourself, Hermione," said Harry mildly.

* * *

…The UK edition puts in Sirius's vault number, right? Why doesn't the US version?

* * *

_If ever you need me, send word. Your owl will find me. Despite the fact that apparently wizards can make themselves Untraceable, that still seems mighty difficult without a wand, which I still currently lack at this point I believe, so I don't think I would be. Therefore, owls can find me all the time, it seems, which is why the Ministry never sent me any owls with envelopes that were actually portkeys made to transport me directly into a holding cell surrounded by dementors and Aurors. They're smart like that._

_I'll write again soon._

_Sirius_

* * *

_A/N: The first bestest is _The Book Thief_ by Markus Zusak if you were wondering. Which they're turning into a movie. They need to not turn it into a movie. I have _never_ been "they should not adapt this" but THEY SHOULD NOT FUCKING ADAPT THIS._

_Okay, hopefully there'll be a shorter break between thingies this time. However, that being said, you might've noticed that GoF is considerably longer than PoA. We will see how things turn out. Please don't flip your shit if there's a huge lull between story posting things; I will most likely still be alive, but I may well still be taking notes, skipping around to different books, working on entirely different projects, or procrastinating on everything. Or I'll get a life but I very much doubt it._

**_Review or someone you trust implicitly will send you on a mission that could destroy the universe if you fuck it up by yourself with little to no clues and practically no motivation._**


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